


Channel Shatterdome and the Video Convention

by AnnetheCatDetective



Series: Based on PR prompts and requests [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Conventions, Fun with Engineering, Gen, In which all the Jaegers are catapults, Multi, NOT sex toys, Tendo is everyone's bestie, Toys, Video & Computer Games, YouTube, and pumpkins are chucked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:24:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quite some time ago, there was a post somewhere on tumblr and dashed if I can find it now, but it had something to do with an AU where there were no kaiju and Hermann had a Let's Play channel and... there was more to it, I feel like, but anyway, I said when I finished one of my WIPs, I would start writing something for it. </p><p>So this is that-- all the denizens of the Shatterdome make semi-popular videos on the internet. The Jaeger pilots are now teams of competitive engineers on a shared channel, Hermann and Tendo both do LP videos, and Newt reviews toys. (and Sasha has a second video channel of her own outside of the competitive engineering stuff)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- The Weekend Before

"You're saying I'm not on your level, is what you're saying." Newt pouts, crossing his arms.

 

Tendo sighs, his head thumping against the back of Newt's couch. "That is not what I said. I just said your stuff is kind of a weird niche."

 

"Lots of people collect toys. Lots of people do box openings and talk about toys, it's not any weirder than watching some guy play video games."

 

"Uh-huh. Okay. I was not saying you aren't on my level."

 

"... But you're saying you don't think people are gonna know who I am when we hit the con." Newt sags a little, some of his brief burst of defensive fire gone.

 

"It's an international convention, I don't think that many people are gonna know who I am, outside of the friends I'm planning on meeting up with."

 

"The internet is international, what does the con being international have to do with anything? Whatever, we're gonna be rock stars. What do you mean, international?"

 

"I mean it's gonna be the first time in two years that every single Channel Shatterdome team is going to be in one place."

 

Newt can't even pretend he doesn't think that's a big deal. There are sometimes videos where one team visits another for a head-to-head competition, but a lot of the challenges have to be completed long-distance, since the teams are so scattered. And the last convention only saw half of them. It had resulted in what was still a really awesome robot fight tournament between those who'd made it, but Newt and Tendo had had to cheer their favorite bots on from Newt's couch, with the convention live feed pulled up. This year, the con is close to home, and they'll be attending. And whatever the engineering teams on Channel Shatterdome have planned, Newt wants to see it in person.

 

He's not the world's greatest engineer. He knows how to rig stuff up, and he's not bad, but he knows that his dreams of being whisked away to join any of the teams is unrealistic, and anyway, he doesn't want to move again now that he's got a cozy place doing biomedical research, in a place where Tendo's close enough for the occasional visit.

 

He still dreams about it sometimes. Just because he didn't pursue engineering as a career and his online claim to fame is opening up and enthusing over little pieces of colorful plastic doesn't mean he can't dream about running with the big boys. The fact that joining Team Alpha would mean moving to Russia usually puts a damper on that dream-- but of course they're his favorites, they have real style. And impeccable taste in music. And it means he and Tendo have something to really take sides on, since Tendo's all about the Wei Tang Clan. Newt made the two of them little construction paper pennants to wave whenever there are new challenge videos. During the livestreaming robot fighting tournament, they had snacks and drinks and everything, for Newt it was practically the super bowl. Only better, because it was shorter and instead of jocks and brain injuries, it featured robots smashing the everloving crap out of each other.

 

"So you've got other friends coming?"

 

"Yeah." Tendo nods. "Plus I plan on making, like, at minimum, a dozen convention friends. Minimum."

 

Newt has no idea how Tendo can be so completely nerdy and yet so completely outgoing and social. It's not like Newt is a hermit-- he likes going out. He likes having fun. He even has more tattoos than Tendo does, and he's been to more concerts. But Tendo makes friends effortlessly everywhere he goes, and Newt winds up alone at the end of the night, no matter how many people he thinks he's having fun alongside. If he was fourteen, he'd be holding it against the guy, but he's not, he's an adult and he's just glad Tendo gets to go to the con this year.

 

"Who do you know that's going?" Newt asks.

 

"Aside from all the Channel Shatterdome teams? There's this couple I know who run a gaming blog who I'll probably be hanging with while you're busy, plus I promised to costar in a vid with Hermann while he's here..."

 

Tendo lists other people. Newt doesn't hear the names. Hermann. Hermann, who he had previously known only as SpaceChampion, who he'd nursed a massive crush on ever since he discovered there was a Let's Player who didn't scream or screech or holler or make any upsetting noises during even the most pants-wettingly terrifying horror games. SpaceChampion played lots of things, and his accent was kind of British, and he spoke calmly and evenly no matter what happened, and Newt loved him for it. Still kind of does, if he's honest. Especially after discovering that Tendo was friends with the guy, not just internet handle friends, but real name friends, and that SpaceChampion-- Hermann-- is as witty and acerbic and smart in person as he seems in his videos.

 

Of course, Tendo hasn't let him live his crush down, but Newt doesn't even mind, not now, because if it's the last thing he does, he's going to get Tendo to introduce him to SpaceChampion.


	2. Chapter One: Thursday, Preregistration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tendo check into their hotel rooms and pick up their badges, and Newt goes on an ill-fated shopping trip.
> 
> Meanwhile, the Channel Shatterdome teams arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly the most fun thing here is that even though there are no kaiju, the story is still set several years into the future, which means I get to make up video games.
> 
> I've put ridiculous amounts of thought into Newt's fave.

"Dude, I can't believe you wouldn't go halfsies on a room." Newt groans.

 

"I'm probably having people back with me over the weekend to party." Tendo shrugs, scanning the parking structure for the closest possible space.

 

"What, I can't party with your cool convention friends?"

 

"Newt, it's the kind of party where no one's wearing any pants." He rolls his eyes. "I've got a second chance with this couple and I don't want you ignoring the 'do not disturb' sign and ruining things right now. It's kind of a critical juncture."

 

"Oh, a critical juncture with a couple people? So you blow one date and you go on the next."

 

"No, with a couple. We all went out a couple years back at a gaming con and things went halfway good and we reconnected online and I really like them and Alison really likes me and Jake wasn't exactly impressed back then but he's been warming up to the whole also dating me thing. I actually care about these people, okay, this isn't just a con hookup."

 

"Oh. Oh. Okay, cool. I guess I'd rather shell out for a whole room if the alternative is camping out in the lobby. Right there by the red one! No, the-- Okay, circle around, it's on my side going this way, no one's behind us, just hook around at the corner and go the wrong way, it's, like, six feet anyway."

 

"Ten feet if it's an inch." Tendo snorts, estimating the space he'd be heading in the wrong direction to snag the space Newt had pointed out. "Probably twelve."

 

"Whatever. I'm not good at distance when I'm in a car." He huffs. There's a reason he uses a scooter whenever he doesn't want to put up with public transportation. There are a lot of reasons, actually, but they all boil down to the bigger umbrella reason, which is that Newt Geiszler behind the wheel of a car is a public menace.

 

Tendo gets the space anyway, and they pull their luggage out of the back. Tendo could have stayed at Newt's, except then they both would have had to wake up early to drive to the hotel every morning of the con, and Newt has no patience for that. Newt has a job that allows him to afford this stuff-- at least, to afford a couple big cons a year, depending on what's close. He has no idea how Tendo happens to have as much as he does to spend on a hotel room and everything, and whenever he asks, Tendo just makes fun of Newt's relative inability to budget, when compared to the magic Choi System For Affording Conventions. Newt suspects that part of Tendo's system is that he gets other people to buy all of his drinks, and that he has relatives who live close to him and push food on him all the time, whereas Newt's closest relatives are on the eastern seaboard.

 

Tendo has worse luggage than Newt does, and Newt knows he's lugging at least three gaming systems with him, maybe more, and yet he manages to look breezy and graceful as they head through the lobby to the front desk, while Newt wrestles with his rolling suitcase the whole time as the wheels randomly decide to not work together on him. Well, his suitcases, the small one full of his stuff and nested in the big one just in case. It's not the most merch-and-swag heavy convention there is-- he wouldn't even know how it stacked up to bigger, longer-running new media cons on that note, but he can compare it to the sci-fi and anime conventions he likes to hit when he can. And of course none of them measure up to the toy conventions, but Newt is rarely lucky when it comes to the big ones there.

 

They're not neighbors, even, which Newt grumbles about a little as Tendo peels off to find his own room, leaving him to navigate the crowd alone. Still, they meet back up to get their badges.

 

"Do you want to get drinks tonight? There's some pre-convention festivities." Tendo greets him as they find each other in the line to pick up their badges.

 

"Maybe one drink." Newt shrugs. The good parties will come later-- he's looking forward to karaoke and to the big 'rave'. Apparently, rave-style dance parties have cycled back into fashion, and Newt's kind of glad. They'd been the epitome of cool back when he was way too young to ever set eyes on one, and they'd had a resurgence back when he'd been going for a PhD and way too busy-- and way too scared of getting caught with someone else's drugs, because he would definitely be the guy left behind in a field somewhere holding the bag while all the cool kids escaped-- and now he has the freedom to be irresponsible for a night and dance to music of questionable quality, and the fact that it's an all-ages con means he doesn't have to worry about being someone's scapegoat, or about cops busting things up at all, or about wondering who might leave him feeling the need to call an adult. And okay, sometimes the realization that he is the adult is crushing, because he doesn't remember getting old, he's definitely not old, he's just... semi-grown up. Sort of. With a fear of the mythical 'cool kids' that is a little pathetic in light of his age and career and the fact that his best friend is absolutely the coolest kid there is.

 

"C'mon." Tendo elbows him.

 

"Dude, you know I can't drink that much. I want to be able to get out of bed in the morning." He elbows back. "Besides... I don't wanna cramp your style or anything."

 

"You don't cramp my style." Tendo frowns, turning to face him. "Are you upset about the 'niche' comment?"

 

"No. I'm not upset about anything! I'm just... Casual drinks at the hotel bar isn't, like, my social milieu. The concerts and the karaoke night and the dance parties, I do pretty good there. Not sitting around, that's all."

 

"Okay. Well, show up for one drink and I'll introduce you to some cool people. I don't know the Kaidanovskys, but I know people who know them, if you want me to find a way to get us introduced."

 

"Seriously?" Newt brightens.

 

"Yeah. I mean, I've been sort of, like, back and forth with a few of the Shatterdome teams now."

 

"The Wei Tang Clan?"

 

"No." He laughs. "I have to root for them because they're one of the only teams I don't know and it's not fair if, like, I pick the Beckets over the Hansens or whatever. Also because Yeye likes them."

 

"Your yeye is a Channel Shatterdome fan?"

 

"No. My Yeye is a Wei Tang Clan fan. The videos are all, like, bi-lingual." He shrugs. "He appreciates that."

 

Newt has never met Tendo's grandfather, but he absolutely loves him just the same.

 

"Your Yeye and my uncle should come get together with us next time we watch a Wei Tang Clan and Kaidanovsky showdown night. I mean, if my uncle was ever in the area."

 

"Shatterdome fan or Kaidanovsky fan?"

 

"The Kaidanovskys are _his_ fans. Or, I mean, like, he pioneered the sound equipment behind Hungarian Hard House, so I showed him one of the videos because it's always, like, blaring in the background."

 

"I'm gonna wrangle us that introduction." Tendo promises, slinging an arm around Newt's shoulders as they reach the front of the line. "And you can talk to them about house music."

 

"Dude, make that happen, and I will do anything for you."

 

"Anything?"

 

Tendo's grin makes Newt regret leaving his expression of gratitude quite so open-ended. He's pretty sure that Tendo has limits in place in terms of what he'd ask, just not that Tendo's limits and his own line up. Like, he trusts Tendo not to ask him to do anything way outside of his comfort zone, but he can see 'anything' being a series of 'one more drink!'s or the like, which he can see ending in a very blurry, bleary morning.

 

Newt gets his badge-- and a ribbon for it, a schedule with info on the panels and a map, and a pinback button, which feels like a very nice start, even if it isn't a lot.

 

"Almost anything." He amends.

 

"Run to the game store for me. I mean, I'll drive, but you know if I go in I'm going to get tempted by stuff, okay? I've been really good about money for a really long time, and I can just feel it, if I go in there I'm going to be eating ramen 'til I'm eighty."

 

"You're going to do that anyway because it's delicious. Don't dis ramen, embrace ramen."

 

"You have no palate and I'm not having this argument with you. I need you to go in, and go to that, like, cardboard box on the front counter where they keep the super cheapo old games, the ones no one loves that are in paper sleeves because they haven't had a real case for as long as anyone can remember, and they all suck hard and they're going for two bucks. I need you to buy the worst-looking game there. I'm going to make someone play it with me for a challenge."

 

That seems pretty easy, actually. No socializing, no drinking, no ridiculous stunts or dares... Newt can even ignore the insult to his palate, which is absolutely as refined as Tendo's, thanks, because browsing a game store is the easiest favor he's ever done for anybody.

 

It means giving up their primo parking spot, but they won't be toting luggage when they get back, so Newt is down.

 

 _Monsters' Citadel_ has a huge display when he gets there, and while Newt dutifully combs through the box of the world's crappiest used games first, after he grabs a two dollar game based on a kids' show from at least fifteen years ago, he heads straight for the new figures, narrowly avoiding a collision with one of the store's only other patrons.

 

"Oh! Sorry, dude, sorry!" He apologizes, really glad he hadn't knocked a guy with a cane over. He doesn't get a response, but he doesn't let that bother him, because holy fuck, the most beautiful monster is hanging right there in front of him, and it has glowing parts, something that impressed him when he was in his twenties and obsessively collecting Skylanders figures and still impresses him today, if the figure is good enough. He barely had time to look at the guy he nearly ran down, he doesn't care if he gets acknowledged as long as he's not getting yelled at.

 

The new _Monsters' Citadel_ figure line is right up Newt's alley, too. There had been cutesy monsters, there had been kind of grossly sexualized lady monsters, but he'd been waiting for more real kaiju-style _monstery_ monsters, of which there had been way too few. He had one that was reminiscent of an Ultraman baddie, and a couple that veered towards Godzilla territory without really hitting it, but this one... It wasn't a stylistic rip-off of any pre-existing creature, but it definitely had the feel of one, and it was going to be the perfect tank...

 

From the other side of the display, there's a snide remark, something spoken under the breath, about how the whole thing is a shameless money-grubbing load of bull-- in German, which means even if the few other people in the shop don't catch it, Newt does, and he bristles, glaring down at the loafers and rubber cane tip that he can see under the bottom of the display.

 

" _Maybe you wouldn't know a fun game if it bit your ass, grandpa_." He shoots back in kind.

 

" _Excuse me_?" The man comes around the display, and Newt takes a step back, clutching his figure in front of himself.

 

Okay. So the guy isn't actually remotely grandpa-aged, he just has old man shoes and old man clothes and Newt feels a little bit like an asshole because he definitely hadn't meant to make the dig based even in part on the cane, but it did sort of factor into his assumptions. Part of him wants to apologize, to say he does not want any trouble from someone who has, like, four inches of height on him, he just wants to get his game and his toy and get out.

 

" _You heard me_." He says instead. " _Saying shitty things about stuff that other people care about in a foreign language isn't the same as not being shitty_."

 

" _You're terribly invested in that garbage for someone over the age of twelve, and you have got a lot of nerve_ \--" The man begins, before giving up, throwing a hand in the air with a strangled noise of frustration, and storming out.

 

Newt grabs a little figure of a pink cat monster as well, sheepishly dragging himself up to the register and hoping the extra purchase makes up for whatever he'd cost the place in driving away Captain No-Fun.

 

 _Monsters' Citadel_ isn't garbage, and it isn't a cheap marketing ploy, it's the latest in a successful type of game, and Newt can't believe some sweater vest-clad, uptight asshole is giving him grief just because he's buying something that makes him happy. It's a good game and it means a lot to him, and the game figures do a lot more than most of his toys anyway, and he's in a huge funk when he gets to the car where Tendo is waiting.

 

"Here. Hope you brought along one of your older systems if you wanted to do this thing this weekend." He says flatly, passing Tendo the game.

 

"Oh man." Tendo grins. "This looks like it sucks. I'm going to ruin somebody's day with this baby! Hey-- What's wrong? Blow all your booze money on more figures? I will get you the hook-up, bro, you drink for free when you're with me."

 

"I don't care about drinking and I didn't blow all my money, I got in a fight with some German dude about _Monsters' Citadel_."

 

"Uh-oh, nerd fight..."

 

"It wasn't a nerd fight, it was a me versus some prematurely-old man fight. Some soulless, fun-hating husk of a human being, who had the gall to trash the best game in the world."

 

Tendo, wisely, does not argue over Newt's assertion that _Monsters' Citadel_ is the best game in the world. It's the game that does the most for Newt, and apparently his connection to it is more personal than Tendo had guessed.

 

"Sorry, Newt." Tendo pats his shoulder. "Show me your haul later, brother. My gaming time is tied up during the convention, but after my friends from farther away all ditch us to head for home, you and I can go two-player. Forget what some random guy said. You and me, we know what's fun. We'll clear out the haunted grove, okay?"

 

Newt gives a half-hearted assent, slumping back in his seat while Tendo drives them back to the hotel. He doesn't want the encounter to ruin the con for him, and he'd promised to have one drink, so he can't just crawl into bed and sleep through the rest of the afternoon and evening, he needs to just decompress and get back out there, let Tendo introduce him to people who are probably cool... He doesn't want the encounter to change how he feels about the beautiful hunk of plastic in his hands, the monster he'd been dreaming of adding to his shelf of game figures.

 

Tendo is a good friend and all, but even he doesn't understand-- no one Newt knows understands-- what it's like to grow up as the monster in the story, and to carry that feeling with you all the time, and maybe it's silly to get upset over a video game getting criticized, but at least Tendo gets how important media representation is when you don't get it, even if he and Newt don't look for their representation in the same places. Newt never even used to know what it was he needed to see represented, when he was growing up. He just knew monsters were the closest thing he ever got, and what it felt like to see them as a dumb obstacle or a scheming villain, as misrepresented and misunderstood and unable to communicate with the human heroes around them at best.

 

When he gets to his room, he sets the figure on the nightstand, next to his glasses, and lets it watch over him while he sleeps, lets it be the last thing he sees as he drifts off, and the first when he wakes up again a couple of hours later.

 

He loves it, absolutely. That's enough to get him up and back into his clothes so that he can meet Tendo for that drink.

 

He's not really surprised to see Tendo at the heart of a big group of people-- and even having learned that he has Shatterdome friends, Newt is a little surprised that one of the Becket brothers is among the group. A few people move off, with goodbyes and plans for later, and rounds of hugs and high fives, and then it's Tendo sitting between Yancy Becket, some guy Newt's never seen before with a redheaded girl in his lap, and then, as he gets close enough to apologize for being late to the party, he sees the last person he expected.

 

"Is this person bothering you?" The man asks Tendo, sneering in Newt's direction.

 

Newt feels his stomach turn inside out, and he absolutely can't stay for the drink. He sounds different in person than on video, but more than that, he sounds very different speaking English and speaking German, but there's no more mistaking him.

 

The guy in the sweater vest, with the cane... that's his SpaceChampion.

 

Newt turns on his heel and heads back to his room.


	3. Chapter Two: Hermann's Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching the focus away from Newt for this one (it won't be the last time, either-- others are actually getting a turn in the spotlight this time around).
> 
> Hermann's check-in and pre-registration do not go according to plan.

Hermann gets to the hotel before the pre-registration period is even supposed to be open, only to find there's already a queue formed in front of the empty card table.

 

Not a problem, he tells himself. It's not a long queue. He'd assumed he would be able to snag a chair near the table and wait until someone arrived to start the process, or at least wait until someone else started standing around waiting, but when another person joins the queue right in front of his eyes, he figures his best bet is to start waiting in it right away, before it somehow doubles in size. He has the rest of the day to get his room key. In fact, still having his luggage at his side is rather useful. With the handle of the rolling suitcase locked into place, it's something else to lean on.

 

There's a noticeable ache creeping up his back by the time the table opens up, tending towards the right side and reaching midway up between shoulder and waist, and it's annoying, but not agonizing. It's not where he normally carries his pain, but that's about the only thing that makes it noteworthy. His hips are stiff, and there's a tremor that seems to run through his limbs in odd turns, and by the time he gets up to get his badge, his expression is definitely pinched, but there's nothing to be done about that, either. He treats the young staffer with common courtesy, but dammit, he doesn't owe the world a constant smile.

 

Moving is better than standing still, though not as good as lying down sounds, and he just wants his room.

 

His room on the second floor. He'd requested one of the first floor rooms, but he understands there aren't many of them to go around.

 

"And which elevator is the room next to?" He sighs.

 

"Well..." The woman at the front desk looks at her computer, and at a chart. "It looks like you're closest to this elevator here--"

 

"Oh, thank heavens..."

 

"You'll just be at the end of the hallway." She finishes, her smile faltering a little at the look he gives her.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"You'll get off on the second floor and go to your right, and it's at the end of the hallway on your left."

 

Hermann draws himself up to his full height, despite the protest his spine gives at being asked to straighten after being made to stand around, his chin jutting forward.

 

"I specifically requested a room on the first floor for a reason. I-- I specified--" His voice threatens to crack, and he clears his throat to cover. "I specified when I made my reservations, that I had a physical disability. And should my request for one of the few first-floor rooms have been impossible to fill, then surely someone would have had the thought that I ought to be placed in a room close to the elevators. At that point, the height of the floor matters far less than the distance I am expected to walk when I exit the elevator! And yet instead I've been placed on the second floor at the very end of a corridor?!"

 

"I'm sorry, Sir, I can't find any note about your being handicapped here--"

 

He twitches, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

 

"Disabled. I prefer 'disabled' to 'handicapped', thank you, if I must make it the topic of discussion. Which apparently I must, because someone has failed to take the most basic of consideration-- has failed to make the most simple of logical leaps-- in processing my reservation. And who may I speak to to get this straightened out?"

 

"I'll call for the manager. It's just-- I-- We're very booked, I don't know if I can find the room you wanted. I'm so sorry."

 

She makes the call, while Hermann leans heavily on the cane in one hand and the suitcase handle in the other. He can feel the strap of his laptop bag digging into his shoulder, the weight more pronounced than it had been when he was in line to register. Or, at least it feels that way.

 

In the end, he stands around for nothing. They're nearly completely booked-- the only rooms left would give him just as much of a walk, with a longer elevator ride on top of that. He takes his card key and the vouchers for the hotel's bar and restaurant and heads off to secure his things, texing Tendo from the elevator.

 

_I hope your room is more convenient than mine, or I'll be trekking across the whole of the hotel to get there._

 

_Ur so grammatically correct when ur pissy bro_

 

_They've flubbed my reservation completely._

 

_U have a rm tho?_

 

 _Ugh. Yes._ He frowns at Tendo's insistence on the convenience of text-speak-- and his refusal to just program shortcuts into his phone so that he can have an entire word out of two letters.

 

_Kk bc otherwise u would have 2 bunk w me and I have a hot date 2morro_

 

He has to put his phone away for the walk to his room, and can't answer until after he has everything put away, clothes in the closet and valuables in the room safe. He toes out of his loafers and lies down, to run through some of his stretches while he picks the conversation back up.

 

_Well, have fun. I am looking forward to this terrible surprise you have planned, even if I suspect it's going to be cruel._

 

_So cruel. Gotta go grab my badge. C u at the bar 2nite. Bringing a friend, think u guysll hit it off. If u c Sasha u should invite the Ks, were desperate for an introduction_

 

_I'm sure I'll talk to her._

 

With a groan, he drops his phone onto the unoccupied pillow, so that he can finish stretching. If Tendo wanted to meet the Kaidanovskys, Hermann was sure he could arrange it-- in fact, he was a little flattered that Tendo asked him, and not one of the Beckets, or Herc Hansen, or Stacker Pentecost... Tendo was on friendly terms with about half the official Channel Shatterdome people, Hermann just knew the Kaidanovskys because he'd met Sasha through an ex, and then he'd gotten to talking to her about some work he was doing in his free time with coding, and she'd introduced him to Aleksis.

 

He'd been a little worried that they wouldn't be friends anymore after the break-up, even though it had ended on good terms, but no one had taken sides in the end. He'd been worried again that they wouldn't be friends if the truth behind the break-up came out-- if he came out-- but that had gone very well.

 

A lot of things had gone very well for Hermann, but this room reservation was not one of them. This day was not one of them.

 

Moments later, he gets a text from Sasha, and slips his shoes back on, heading down to the lobby to meet up with her.

 

"Come with me." She slings her arm around him, careful of whatever condition he might have been in without losing the very casual look of her movements. It's one of the things he likes about her, and the few times he was able to meet up with the Kaidanovskys in person-- they were both very solicitous, warm people once you got to know them. They were both very mindful of his limitations and the fact that he was often in pain, but he couldn't recall a single instance where either of them had said or done something that made his disability feel more visible than it was by default. If they slowed their pace to match his, it was always with a careless slouch and the appearance of something natural and relaxed. If he needed a favor done, it was done without fuss, and if he didn't, then the subject was never pushed. It was nice.

 

A nice change from some of the people who purported to care about him, but he didn't want to dwell on that at all. He is-- apparently-- going out somewhere with friends.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"Convention supplies." She says brusquely. Aleksis, at her other side, merely flashes Hermann a smile. His face always settles into an impassive mask between expressions, something that most find intimidating, but the smiles that he does give, when with friends... Hermann has a hard time imagining that he could have been intimidated, once upon a time. Well, when he'd met Aleksis, it was over the internet, and it was through deep discussions about coding, and various entertainment-based applications thereof, so he finds it odd in general that he has a nerdy friend who everyone else tends to be intimidated by.

 

"Oh. I see." He raises an eyebrow. "Room party?"

 

"I am not paying for minibar when little fridge is free." She shrugs, disdain dripping from the word 'minibar' so thickly he can practically see it. It gets a laugh out of him, at least.

 

"I've got some vouchers for the hotel bar-- They put me in the wrong room and can't fix it. I was just going to give them to Tendo, but he plans on torturing me later, so he might not deserve them. But if you want to join us later, you can have one on me. Tendo is eager to meet the two of you-- he is friends with some of the other teams. You'll like him immediately, everyone does."

 

"We will come, then." Sasha nods. "You can introduce us to this fun friend. What kind of torture is he planning?"

 

"Should he go on invite list for room party?" Aleksis adds.

 

"Some sort of video game challenge. We're guest-starring for each other." Hermann chuckles. "I'm sure by the time we get to the bar, he'll have been invited to half a dozen parties, but if he hasn't already made promises, I don't doubt he'll pick yours. And I don't doubt you'll want him there, he gets along with everyone. And if it's for the other Shatterdome teams, he'll already know... ah, the Beckets, the Hansens, and at least Pentecost, if not his whole team..."

 

"Then he's in." Aleksis nods.

 

They drive, in the Kaidanovskys' rental car, down to a little strip mall, where the two of them head into the liquor store at one end, and Hermann begs off to duck into the game store. He might as well see if there's anything he can't find back home that strikes his fancy...

 

He's looking over the back of a case and pacing the store to keep his hip from stiffening up or his back from getting too sore from standing still when he nearly runs into a man heading the other way-- or, judging by the shouted apology and the sound of the man continuing to move briskly, perhaps more the other way around-- and he tries for a noncommittal reply that gets stuck in his throat somewhere. Still, the other man hadn't waited for a reply anyway, so it can't be a complete social faux pas...

 

His wandering around the store while he compares a couple of new games leads him to a large display by the time he's done-- and he thinks he does want the handheld game. It's not from any of the series he likes to follow, so it's a total unknown, outside of the art and the blurb on the back, he can't think of any reviews on it from someone whose opinions he generally shares. It looks fun, though. He needs something new to distract him in waiting rooms, that's the real thing, the meat of it. He can't take his laptop along to every appointment, much less a console.

 

He can't keep his opinion on the display to himself entirely-- he'd never been a fan of the whole figure-and-portal mechanic. It was worse than launch-day DLC, in his opinion, it was terrible. Especially if there were areas you could only access with a certain class of character, and more such categories than there were characters who came packaged with the game. You had to buy a hundred little gewgaws to get the full game experience, and then on top of that they sold you little plastic discs with even more extra nonsense, but unlike DLC, you had to go to a store, purchase a physical item, and then store that physical item in your home, like you had to store all the little characters. And of course they were ready to sell you special storage set-ups, little fancy shelves and plastic boxes and carrying cases for all the crap you had to buy on top of a sixty-five dollar game!

 

It's not like he'd shouted his opinion out to the whole store, at least. He hadn't expected anyone to hear him-- certainly not to understand him. So having someone hiss at him in outrage from the other side of the display is a bit of a surprise.

 

Being called 'grandpa' is a bit of an outrage. He doesn't expect to be recognized-- even inside the convention, he doesn't expect to be recognized by very many people, he doesn't show his face, he keeps SpaceChampion very separate from Dr. Hermann Gottlieb in every way-- but to be equated with an out-of-date old man here, when he is in his element... He shoves his games onto the shelf, amongst the distasteful little plastic figures.

 

"Wie bitte?" He demands, swinging around with a heavy tread that he hopes comes off as more aggressive than tired and clumsy.

 

For a moment, he thinks the flash of surprise-- mortification?-- might mean an apology from the schlubby young man in the Godzilla tee shirt, but instead, he gets called out further, and a part of him wants to scream 'do you know who I am?', to throw his gaming credentials in the face of this-- this manchild!

 

In the end, he doesn't. He just leaves to rejoin Sasha and Aleksis.

 

Well, Aleksis, who is paying for two large bags full of booze and Oreos, with Sasha nowhere in sight.

 

"Nothing good?" Aleksis asks.

 

"Nothing worth putting up with the utter... arsehole next door with for." Hermann leans against the counter so that he can fold his arms. After a while, the pressure it puts on his hip is uncomfortable, and he has to return to leaning on his cane a moment more before just following Aleksis out to the car.

 

There's a little beauty supply store that Hermann hadn't even noticed before, and Sasha comes out to join them, carrying an enormous bag of her own, and something small in her hand.

 

"This lipstick? Is one dollar." She tells Aleksis, her expression serious.

 

"Did you buy a hundred of them?" Hermann goggles.

 

"Is not deal anymore when you buy one hundred." Aleksis deadpans.

 

"This is incredible deal. Now when we go home, I will be very popular. Girlfriends will line up to buy these off of me at the price I paid. You can get some brands..." She pauses to explain to Hermann. "Always overpriced."

 

"I'll take your word for it. I've never thought about the various problems associated with buying makeup in Russia."

 

"I never do. I mail tea and chocolate to Nessa and she mails makeup to me. I shop when we travel." Sasha shrugs. "All right. If you boys have everything?"

 

"We have everything." Aleksis nods, before Hermann can complain. But, he flashes him another quick smile. "Maybe after convention, we stop here again so Hermann can look in shop again for games before we head for airport. Or if we leave hotel to get dinner together sometime."

 

"Yes. Another time, when they're less busy..." He nods, grateful.

 

Back at the hotel, he peels off from them, with plans to meet up at the bar later, and heads up to take a short hot shower and another round of stretches, as well as to take the pills he's due for.

 

It's good to see Tendo again, and to meet Tendo's... prospective paramours. He's looking forward to introducing his friends to each other, and there's already a communal platter of vegetarian nachos out, drinks in hand everywhere... Hermann orders a soft drink and settles in to ask Tendo about plans. Almost everything has been hashed out, but Tendo has been very secretive about just what it is he wants them to play for this video, and Hermann can only hope that the alcohol will loosen his tongue a bit. He'd like to actually be prepared.

 

And then there's a cough, and a tentative greeting, and Hermann turns to see the ass from the video game store standing there, with the look of a man who knows he's intruding on someone's time.

 

He doesn't stick around, but when Hermann turns back to Tendo, he sees a confused frown, Tendo's attention on where the other man used to be.

 

"Tendo?"

 

"No-- No, that's Newt. That was Newt." Tendo scrubs at his face with a wordless groan. "Newt's the guy I told you about."

 

"You're _friends_ with that miscreant?!" Hermann says, as calmly and politely as he is able to. Which is to say, not terribly.

 

"Miscreant? What are you talking about?" Tendo's brow furrows as he looks back to Hermann at last.

 

"He was-- He was very rude to me, in the game store, just this afternoon."

 

"What? Dude, I didn't even see you! Wait..." His momentary smile vanishes. "You're the jerk he told me about?"

 

" _Me_?! _I'm_ the-- That man-- He called me 'grandpa'! He insinuated that _I_ do not understand video games or fun!"

 

"Well, you kinda knocked _Monsters' Citadel_ , and that shit's serious business to Newt."

 

"It's a money-grubbing scam for children! He said I was a-- He suggested that I-- I never intended to be confrontational when I expressed my opinion, quietly, and he suggested that I was a bad person for doing so!" Hermann rises to his feet, but there's a table in front of him, and a crowd behind him, and he does not want to storm back off to his room, so he winds up sitting back down, defeated.

 

"Monsters are kind of his deal, I don't know what to tell you. Shit... I'm sorry. He gets defensive, but... He's not a jerk, okay? He lets me crash on his sofa when I'm out of the City... he's a stand-up guy. And he likes the little plastic figures, he'd probably buy them even if there wasn't a game they hooked up to... He took it kind of personally, and look, I get why you're not happy about it either, but..."

 

"But?" Hermann crosses his arms. "You think I'm in the wrong?"

 

"Oh, I am not taking sides on this one." Tendo puts his hands up. "Brother, you're not dragging me into the middle of your nerd fight. I'm just saying if you both cooled off, you're not... I mean, yeah, you're _different_ , but... I take it all three of us are not gonna be doing anything fun this weekend?"

 

"We most certainly are not."

 

Tendo sighs. "Okay. Well, that sucks for me. But fine. I won't ask him to hang out with us. I can hang out with him whenever and you're just in town for a little while... he'll... probably understand that. Just let me text him... Can I at least tell him you're sorry about before?"

 

"You may not." Hermann huffs, feeling betrayed. He'd expected Tendo to understand the indignity. Being called 'grandpa', being called a shitty person, essentially... by a total stranger who had no idea who he was or what he did with his free time. Well, not that he hadn't gotten 'grandpa' all the time, that one started in high school, when he started periodically using a cane. That would have marked him as different on its own, even if his wardrobe hadn't been subject to his infirmity. No tight jeans-- he'd never found jeans comfortable, from his early teens on, regardless of fit. Extra layers because he was almost always cold. The shoes had been the worst, the epitome of uncool, always a size too big and made to slip on and off because he couldn't guarantee he'd be able to bend down to put them on or take them off again... Maybe Tendo's friend hadn't meant for 'grandpa' to hit home the way that it had, but Hermann had expected that Tendo, who knew enough about Hermann's youth, would understand why he wasn't in the most forgiving of moods.

 

The seating in the bar is hell on his lower back, but he is not running off in defeat. He's promised to buy drinks for people, he's promised to make introductions, and he deserves to have a good time. If he let pain stop him every time he wanted to do something, he would never have any fun-- or a job, for that matter. Forget his doctorate, he'd never have made it through school to even get to university. He has to make concessions to his body, but he has a life to live. Even if he's not in the mood to really enjoy the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Yes, Hermann's check-in experience may be lifted in part from my family's adventures in Traveling With Disabilities. Although we had a slightly better time of it.


	4. Chapter Three: Friday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt pouts through breakfast, Tendo fails Conflict Resolution 101, and Chuck nearly gets flattened.

Newt hadn't bothered with his phone Thursday night, except to plug it into its charger before setting it to Do Not Disturb mode and turning his back on it. In the morning, when he shuts off the alarm, he can see he'd received five texts, all Tendo.

 

_Newt bro u ran off b4 the Kaidanovskys got here!_

 

_Kk sorry about Hermann did not know man._

 

_Hermann turned in early if u want to come have that drink. Sasha and Aleksis are cool I will provide the intro._

 

_Heading 2 bed but txt whenever bro._

 

_How about I buy you breakfast?_

 

Breakfast actually sounds pretty good. Newt is sorry that he'd missed the Kaidanovskys, but even with Hermann not there, he just hadn't had it in him to go back down and face a group of tipsy, happy revelers... Well, he plans on going to a couple of the big Shatterdome things, so he might get the chance to meet them on his own.

 

He texts Tendo back, and winds up invited to Tendo's room to get room service, instead of down in the hotel's cafe. It's a little thing, but he really appreciates it. When he's in a good mood, he projects the whole 24-hour-party-person image pretty well, but the crowds can be really draining when he's in a funk, and the whole weekend is going to be crowds.

 

They don't really talk until Newt has his french toast in front of him and Tendo has inhaled half his first cup of black coffee, and Tendo's expression is sympathetic when he does speak.

 

"So you guys didn't exactly hit it off the way I'd envisioned." He sighs.

 

"Yeah, no. Not exactly." Newt stabs at a bite, looking down at his plate. "At least I didn't send that dopey fan letter to him, I'd have felt pretty stupid then."

 

"Fan letter? You didn't tell me you wrote him a fan letter." Tendo tries to school his grin, considering Newt's mood.

 

"Yeah, well... I mean, he's the only Let's Play channel where all the videos are totally, like... spectrum-friendly, for me. Good volume balance, No intro with eye-searing graphics, no startling or headache-inducing sounds..."

 

"Only? Hey, what am I, chopped liver?"

 

"You scream so much when something scares you and your mic is so bad. It's so bad, Tendo."

 

"It's a good mic."

 

"It's fine for being a basic Let's Play guy, but when you scream into it there's this, like... it gets this distortion thing that just sets me off. I can handle the screaming if we're sitting in the same room together and a zombie bursts through a window to bite your throat out and you can't handle it even though you've played the exact same game, like, five times--"

 

"That was my second play-through, okay? I definitely am not the biggest screamer."

 

"-- But I can't watch your horror videos because of the sound. I mute some of them just to give you the view in your stats. I mean, I watch your throwback classic gaming vids and your monster-free Minecraft stuff, but yeah. SpaceChampion-- Hermann-- he's, like, the only person I've seen just never scream. He doesn't raise his voice. It was always so freaking calming and now I can't even think about watching him again."

 

"He's usually not a jerk. I mean, to be fair, he didn't think you were going to understand him, it's not like he went out of his way to offend you."

 

"But he did offend me." Newt points out, gesturing with his fork. "Whether or not he meant to stops mattering, I can't just turn off a bad feeling because someone didn't 'mean to'."

 

"Okay. So he did offend you." Tendo sighs. "So what did you do then? Did you say 'excuse me, I think your opinion is unfounded, I happen to enjoy this game', or did you call him 'grandpa'?"

 

Newt drops his fork, and his jaw. "You're taking _his_ side?!"

 

"I'm not taking anyone's side! I'm just telling you what I told him, okay? You both got upset real fast over a game, but you're not really that different, and if you'd just apologize to each other, you could probably be friends, but instead you just want to be angry because that lets you both feel like you're right and the other guy is a big, unreasonable meanie."

 

There's a long pause, Newt's jaw working.

 

"It's not just a game." He doesn't look at Tendo when he speaks, his voice barely there.

 

"Say again?" Tendo leans forward, cupping a hand around his ear, angling his head to try and see Newt's face a little better.

 

" _Monsters' Citadel_. It's not just a game."

 

"They're all just games, brother. And this is coming from a guy who, I mean, video games are my life. A pretty huge part of my life. But that's what they are, they're games. I'm not saying games aren't important, they are, but..."

 

"But this one is different!" Newt turns to look at him at last, his voice coming out louder than he'd intended-- he can't remember ever actually fighting with Tendo. Arguing, maybe, but not shouting. This isn't quite a furious explosion, but it's as close as he's ever come, at least where Tendo is concerned, and there's an honest hurt behind it, and Newt can see when that sinks in by the way that Tendo's shoulders droop. "It's different for me!"

 

"I know."

 

"No you don't." He shakes his head. "I just-- It's-- In this one, I get to be the hero."

 

"That's... what video games are. Most of them. I mean--"

 

"No. _I_ get to be. _Me_. Not some guy who's tall and good-looking and never had a single moment's worry about his sexuality and who doesn't fall apart over schedule changes or curl up in a ball if he breaks a glass because of the sound it makes. _Me_. I get to pick heroes who aren't Doom Guys or cute animal mascots with attitude. And they mean something to me." He blinks rapidly, throat tightening. "And the story means something to me. My little guys are broken, and they're misunderstood, and they start out thinking they'll never have a voice. And I get to take them through fixing it. And I get to build them a safe place."

 

"Damn. I wish you'd sold it to Hermann like that."

 

"Yeah, well, he wasn't buying."

 

Tendo just raises an eyebrow at him, and Newt squirms. He doesn't feel hungry anymore, but he knows he'll regret not eating once he's out there running around.

 

"Hey-- I got us VIP passes to the Channel Shatterdome reunion panel." Tendo nudges Newt's foot with his own, under the table. "We can go down early and talk to everybody while the sound guys set up the mics. Don't worry-- it's a separate room, you won't have to deal with the feedback or anything."

 

"You-- Holy shit, when did you get us VIP passes? These were sold out!"

 

"I know people." Tendo grins. Newt's mood is visibly brightened, and getting this makes up for the fact that they won't be sitting next to each other during the panel itself.

 

Newt's tread is lighter on the way down, where Tendo leads him to the hospitality suite on the first floor, near to the big conference room. There's a small knot of people standing outside, some lined up with their VIP passes in hand, others in STAFF shirts bustling about getting things organized, waiting on the room to be ready, and Newt spots the Kaidanovskys chatting to one of the staffers. He can't hear what's said, only the booming laugh that answers it.

 

Herc Hansen waves to Tendo, breaking off from his son to come up and say hello over at the back of the short line of VIP pass holders while Chuck heads for the door, and Newt finds his attention split, pulled in two different directions as Tendo and Herc exchange greetings next to him, and over by the door, the sound of a surprised yelp, and a young woman's laugh, and then, Sasha's voice carrying loud and clear.

 

"And what is wrong with beauty bloggers?"

 

Newt tries to recreate in his mind what might have been said to lead to that question. He can hear the cadence of Chuck's backtracking apology, and he can see Mako Mori laughing into her hands, looking between Chuck and Sasha, and then Herc rolls his eyes and claps Tendo on the shoulder.

 

"See you inside. Gotta go make sure the boy's not causing an international incident with the Russians." He grins, ambling up to the little cluster of people at the door, and mussing the hair of his red-faced son.

 

The door opens and the line moves. There's a big urn of coffee and carafes of orange juice inside the hospitality suite, and a big stack of plastic cups, and apparently the VIP guests are free to help themselves, though Newt still waits until he sees most of the other pass holders with cup in hand before he helps himself.

 

He's actually really enjoying himself, the previous day's spiral of shame and anger and hurt sidelined by the fact that he's fallen into a conversation with the Kaidanovskys about Hungarian Hard House, when the door opens and Sasha looks past him to smile and waves, and Newt turns to see who she's waving to...

 

And it's Hermann.

 

Newt excuses himself, he doesn't even know what he says, but it can't have seemed out of the ordinary to them, no one stares or asks him to repeat himself before he can make it over to Tendo's side.

 

He can't really make himself focus enough to get anything from Hermann's conversation with the Wei Tang Clan, but apparently he's finally managed to hit it off with them, and Newt briefly wonders if now that Tendo has met all of the teams and everyone likes him, he won't be able to root for anyone. He tries to focus on that, instead of on the fact that Hermann has slid into the space he'd just vacated, is talking with the Kaidanovskys and smiling and laughing like yesterday never happened.

 

Maybe for Hermann it didn't. Maybe the whole thing was just... easily forgotten, because it's not like he had a big, fat, stupid internet crush on Newt before, it's not like Newt had to mean anything to Hermann...

 

He sips slowly at his orange juice and makes himself smile whenever someone looks over at him, nodding while Tendo and the Weis talk.


	5. Chapter Four: Top of the Convention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the Kaidanovskys-- and covering a bit of what we've seen through Newt's eyes. Plus, Hermann gets the chance to vent... it doesn't go as planned.

Sasha and Aleksis linger outside the hospitality suite rather than cloistering themselves inside, even as the line begins forming, people excited just at the glimpses of the two of them standing head and shoulders above the crowds. Part of it is just that they both enjoy the energy of the crowd, part of it is that someone needs to be there to thank and to reassure the frazzled staffers who run back and forth trying to make sure everything is just perfect.

 

Mako joins them by the door, looking different from the last time they'd seen her-- she was wearing a dress, to start with, instead of the coveralls she usually wore when assisting Pentecost's engineering team, and a somewhat more dramatic makeup look, just for the sake of keeping her features defined even for those in the back of the hall when she was on-stage for the panel.

 

Those were changes that didn't surprise Sasha at all, but the blue streaks in her hair... that one is a little bit of a surprise.

 

"This is new." She smiles, reaching out to touch one lightly, brushing it back. "Very nice. Is... a little bit 'punk rock' for this dress, but I like it. This look suits you."

 

"It took a long time." Mako laughs softly, shaking her head at the compliment. "Sensei wanted me to pick something that would wash out. I tried to tell him I would still need to bleach it. Anyway, it will still grow out if I decide I do not like it that much... But, I think I like it."

 

"Good." Sasha exchanges sly grins with Aleksis, and winks at Mako. "You are a woman now, what is he going to say about hair? If he is going to complain, just tell him, at least you are not asking for tattoos. Hair is not so permanent."

 

"I am not even going to mention tattoos." Mako rolls her eyes, but she suppresses another laugh as well, one of real amusement. "Anyway, he was very nice about it once it was done."

 

"He doesn't like for you to grow up. This is how fathers are. It doesn't matter if it is blood or not. Uncles, too." Sasha nods. "But if they are lucky, their daughters and their nieces always grow up anyway."

 

"I think he is getting used to the idea. Anyway, I'm glad I caught you before we have to start--"

 

"Oi-- line's blocking the door!"

 

Sasha casts a quick glance over to where Chuck Hansen is headed their way, without the rest of his team. The line is perfectly in order, though she supposes that, standing in front of the door with the crowd at her back, Mako almost looks like she could be the first in line.

 

Sasha nods, and Aleksis waves, and Mako doesn't even bother to turn to greet him, instead trying to get back to her interrupted thought, only to find herself interrupted again.

 

"'Scuse me, little girl, this is the engineering meet-and-greet, beauty bloggers are down in hall E."

 

Mako turns on her heel, giving him a withering look. "Chuck Hansen, it has not been so long, that I would expect you not to recognize me at all. You stayed at our home six months ago."

 

"Mako! You-- er, you cut your hair. I mean, it looks... good?" The boy looks... mortified, Sasha thinks, but not suitably mortified.

 

She draws herself up, her shoulders back and her chin lifted.

 

"And what is wrong with beauty bloggers?" She demands, and between the imperious look, the fact that she could probably bench press him, and Aleksis standing at her shoulder should she be insufficiently threatening, Chuck actually looks repentant. True, it may be merely out of fear, but she's known him since he was in high school and he'd always been somewhat insufferable when it came to his opinion of himself, to the bewilderment of his father and the amusement of his uncle.

 

She thinks the uncle is the real problem, he eggs Chuck's worst behaviors on, but it is hardly her place to say that to anyone. She makes a show of considering his apology a while before accepting. Mako does the same, and Sasha feels an odd sort of pride in the way that the girl makes it clear her forgiveness is a favor that has nothing to do with whether or not he has earned it. The sense that she does not care if he tries to or not, really.

 

"Since when d'you wear a skirt, anyway?" Chuck tacks on, because of course leaving things alone would be too easy.

 

He is a brilliant boy, Sasha thinks. When it comes to machines, at least. Not when it comes to girls.

 

"Whenever I want to." Mako shrugs. "When I am not working on projects."

 

"Well you didn't when we came to visit, that's all."

 

She rolls her eyes. "It was winter."

 

"And your hair was longer. Wait, did you put blue in it?"

 

She rolls her eyes again, and Sasha can't help laughing.

 

"What's he done now?" Herc asks, with a placating grin, as he jogs up to greet them. Sasha pulls him into a bear hug, and even gives Chuck a clap on the back, and then Herc is passed off to Aleksis for another hug, before he winds up hugging Mako without needing to be reeled into it.

 

"He just didn't recognize me." Mako smiles sweetly, with a little shrug, perfectly demure for a friend of her father's where she had not been for his son.

 

"From behind!" Chuck defends himself, against the disbelieving look that Herc gives him.

 

"Well, let's get on in before you lose any more dignity." Herc sighs.

 

"We should, they will want to start soon." Sasha nods, and Mako gets the door, holding it until Aleksis has it.

 

"Scott's not gonna be in for this one." Herc says, apologetic and uneasy. "Traveling did a number on him. Bloody ordeal of a flight, you know? We were on that plane, what, eleven hours?"

 

He looks to Chuck, who only shrugs.

 

"Of course." Sasha nods, though she knows it wasn't travel. It's never travel, after all, in the videos where he holds himself just too carefully, or slips in the act and moves too loose, laughs too hard, or miscalculates something-- covering quickly each time, ruffling Chuck's hair when the boy solves his problems for him, pretending he slips them in as a test, or to prove how good Chuck is. She doesn't have any real alcoholics in the family, but one of her father's friends had been, on his middling days, very much like Scott Hansen.

 

"Anyway, Max is keeping an eye on him. He'll be around for the rest of the panels, no worries."

 

"I am not worried." She says.

 

It's the truth-- the rest of his team won't let any serious accidents happen. Chuck will catch the mistakes-- maybe he even believes they really are there to test him. If he doesn't, he acts it well enough. Still, it's clear enough the father and son don't need him. At least, not for any engineering projects.

 

The fans filter in soon, and the meeting and greeting gets underway. When Aleksis spots Tendo come in, he waves him over, and they make room within their little conversation group, for Tendo to introduce his friend. Sasha had thought Hermann would be with him as well-- she and Aleksis had given them both passes to get in, after all, but she had yet to spot Hermann. The people that she and Aleksis had been speaking to slip away when Tendo's friend Newt launches into a talk on Hungarian Hard House, but it's one that at least she and Aleksis are happy to be a part of. Newt knows his stuff, and when the Weis come over to take a dig at their music of choice, Aleksis focuses on Newt while Sasha makes sure that they and Tendo get to talking, before she returns to discussing the finer points of Euro house music in general.

 

Newt excuses himself after Sasha does spot Hermann coming in-- he thanks them for the fun talk, and waves his empty coffee cup, gesturing to the urn by way of explanation, but she thinks it's just as likely he'd noticed she was greeting a friend and didn't want to overstay his welcome. After extracting a promise from him to show up to their autograph signing table later, she lets him go, and turns to pull the approaching Hermann into a hug.

 

"Sorry I'm late. Slow start this morning." He excuses, his smile apologetic as Aleksis squeezes his arm. "First days..."

 

"Yes, I heard everyone is hungover from travel."

 

Aleksis snorts, and Hermann just shakes his head.

 

"More travel than last night at the bar for me... but I could hardly speak for anyone else."

 

"The trip was, for you, not quite so long as for us?" Aleksis asks.

 

"Close enough." Sasha nods.

 

Hermann shrugs. "I'll survive. Anyway, I have a... There's been a job offer. Here, I mean, just in the city. I'm going in for an interview. It's not the sort of work I've done before-- not on a professional level. It's... it's worse, actually, than the job I have now. And it's a more expensive city to live in. But..." He sighs, shifting a little. "It would be mine. Something my father didn't arrange for me. Something I had on my own merits, and... that's attractive to me. It's coding work. I know it's not prestigious at all, I'd be laughed out of academic circles for considering it, but... I mean, am I crazy?"

 

"To want to break away from your father?" She frowns, just for a second, shrugs. "No. That is not crazy. But you do not need to take a job you cannot be comfortable on for that."

 

"I would need to go in for the interview, to know if I could be comfortable. It's not a bad city to be in, even if it is more expensive. I have a little bit of a cushion saved away... The laws about accessibility in this country are pretty firm, even in old buildings... the public transportation is acceptable-- I know it won't be what I'm used to back home, but there are still several options and I can get used to it... And I want to break away. I need to. I just don't want to throw away my career on a childish whim. But... if I can't get a job that my father never had a hand in, it's not even my career."

 

Sasha nods, moving to put her arm around his shoulders. "It will not hurt you to look. But... maybe instead of coding, there are academic positions somewhere, that you might interview for."

 

Hermann's expression is difficult to read, as is the odd shrug-turn that doesn't seem meant to shake off her arm. Maybe merely to evade the scrutiny of being looked at, after all the talk of career and life changes, and his own lingering doubts about the role nepotism may have played in his thus far.

 

She thinks it's ridiculous, but there's no telling a genius anything some days. She knows what his reputation is, and it isn't built on what his father could do for him, it's built on his own drive and his own smarts.

 

"All right, I'll admit, I have also done some research into universities and research labs in the area." He smiles faintly. "If I had a short term contract just to do some work for this tech company, if I opted for my name to be left out of things, at least for a little while, then I could look for real academic work, someplace far from my father. But..." He sighs, that smile fading. "I don't mean to say I haven't found anything. It wouldn't be here in San Jose like the coding job would be, if I could get in to meet with people, so I'm not sure how I would even get over there. I mean... it isn't far, either-- It wouldn't be far if I drove. As it is, I can get over to talk to the tech company, but not the accelerator lab."

 

"Ah." Sasha nods.

 

"Yes. I would have to find an in through someone, and have reliable transportation... and I've looked at all the work that's being done at all the research labs connected to the university, and... it's so impressive." He sighs again-- dreamier, this time. "Not just the physics, either. Even the biomedical research lab is doing... _mind_ -blowing things. But if I can't get to the next city over anyway, and I don't know anyone who can tell me when they might be looking for someone... See? Even without my father, nothing gets done unless you know people on the inside."

 

His shoulders slump, and Aleksis gives a sympathetic tut.

 

"Your friend Tendo-- he has a car, maybe?" Sasha gestures towards where Tendo is standing, smiling and laughing easily with the Wei triplets, and for a brief moment, Hermann's face lights up.

 

It all comes crashing down once he turns, and Sasha can't for the life of her think what could put that look on his face. Luckily, she doesn't have to sit around guessing.

 

"If Tendo is driving that man, then I'll just go back home and let my father dictate my career to me."

 

"You do not like _Newt_?" Sasha's brow furrows.

 

"... How does everyone _know_ him?!"

 

"He was nice. Very knowledgeable about music."

 

"Yes, well, he's not very knowledgeable about video games. Or about-- basic human decency!" Hermann snaps, folding his arms in front of his chest, his cane tucked under one and Sasha's arm still around his shoulders giving him something to balance himself against if necessary.

 

Sasha and Aleksis exchange glances. Well, they'd gotten some of the story, if Newt was the man Hermann had run into earlier...

 

"We have to do this panel." Sasha sighs, giving him a squeeze. "Lunch, later?"

 

Hermann nods miserably.

 

"You have reserved seat. Second row on center aisle." She says, before the staffers can shepherd all the fans out. "We will see you in there!"

 

He gives a halfhearted nod, letting himself be led out, only to scowl when he and Newt are funneled through the door together.

 

"He is sitting with them, yes?" Aleksis asks.

 

"Yes." She groans. The pass they'd given Hermann and the passes they had given to Tendo would all be for reserved seating marked with 'Kaidanovsky'... "Tendo will sit between them."

 

When they get to the stage and look out to spot their VIP guests, however, Tendo is a row behind the reserved section, sitting between the couple he'd been hanging off of at the bar the night before, Hermann's cane leaning against the empty chair that forms the only barrier between Newt and himself.

 

"This might be a long convention." Sasha whispers.

 

Aleksis nods, sitting down heavily, his chair creaking at the sudden weight.


	6. Chapter Five: Friday I'm (Not) in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc Hansen has his family to deal with, Hermann has a future to plan, and Newt learns how to market himself... or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Splitting this one into three sections rather than following one character through the whole chapter, hoping that doesn't ruin the flow. The chapter's short enough without being split into thirds, so...

Dealing with Scott that morning had been hard... disappointing, but hardly surprising, not if Herc is honest. The panel still goes well-- better, without Scott there. People love Scott, when he can edit out everything truly embarrassing, when he's charming and 'on' for the camera. They wouldn't love Scott scowling and hungover. He bullshits his way through his brother's apologies, through talk of time zones and long flights, and he promises Scott will be there for future panels, and of course for the big event.

 

Once they get past Scott's absence, everything's mostly hunky-dory. Their team will be slowing down on the challenges when Chuck heads off to university, wouldn't be the same without him, of course he's proud, all that. Chuck certainly is, not at all embarrassed to be the center of attention for the moment as he talks about his plans. He wants to design improvements to aircraft, maybe motorbikes or cars.

 

The Pentecosts' team won't face a similar slowdown while Mako's off, Stacker and Luna have got Tamsin as well. They're good enough to pretend it's that they still have an extra person, but Herc and Stacker meet each other's eyes, and Herc knows Stacker knows. He could do just about anything if he had Chuck and not Scott, but the other way around?

 

He's not surprised when Stacker corners him after the panel, concerned frown in place as they face each other in the empty little bit of service corridor behind the conference room.

 

"How is Scott really doing?"

 

"He'll be right. Once he dries out." Herc snorts. Scott does still dry out. Not for very long, anymore... but he does.

 

"I can't tell you what to do about your brother--"

 

"Bloody right you can't." He interjects, but it's without any real fire, and he sags under the hand that rests heavy on his shoulder. "Look, I know it's not ideal. I know. But... He's my brother. Chuck looks up to him..."

 

"Isn't that the best reason to do something?"

 

"Twist the bloody knife, why don't you? Look, I can't drop him. Not here, not now... Not in a strange city where he could run out and get into trouble if he's pissed off at me. But... An intervention. When we get home. I can call in some old friends, whoever he's got who's not just as bad. And some family. Dunno if anyone from the 'dome could make a trip like that."

 

"I'll talk with anyone you need me to. Mako and Luna both need to head back home once the convention is over, but I could come out with you. And I'll ask Tamsin."

 

"The Weis might schedule a little stopover, between here and home for them. Wouldn't be too much of a detour. Dunno if I think the Kaidanovskys would. Beckets just have to go straight up, I'm definitely out of their way."

 

"We'll talk to everyone. Even if they can't say yes to being there in person, we might teleconference a few more in." Stacker promises, giving Herc's shoulder a squeeze and a heavy clap. "Scott's fortunate, to have a brother who wants to give him this chance to turn things around."

 

"Yeah. Doesn't feel too great where I'm standing."

 

"It will. When he's in recovery and you can look back on today as an important step. Enabling him is the worst thing you can do, for all of you. And I'll be there."

 

"Thanks." Herc nods, slapping Stacker's shoulder in return.

 

It's still not an easy thing to look forward to, but the man has a point. He can't let Chuck pick up any bad habits. Boy with his brains and ambitions needs to stay responsible, at least more often than not. And if addictive personalities run in the family, that's something he needs to be able to think about.

 

\---/-/---

 

Even though he and this 'Newt' don't speak a word to each other during the panel, Hermann is annoyed by the man's very presence. How could someone so maddening have charmed three of his friends? Hermann doesn't have very many friends to his name, and it hurts to have so many of them swayed like this, by someone who'd been so rude.

 

He hasn't got anybody with him at the convention who doesn't also like this Newt person, at any rate. It rankles, but he tries to put it out of mind, when he gets to lunch a bit early, researching possible places to rent and other job offers. The fact that a program he'd coded for fun had attracted enough attention to net him offers-- and it was offers, plural, now-- is great, but everything seems to be moving fast.

 

There's another interview open to him after the weekend, in Palo Alto, and that would put him closer to the lab, geographically... but according to his research, it's an expensive city. He isn't sure how he'd make it work.

 

He spills all the rest to Aleksis and Sasha once they arrive and order, drawing comfort from the consideration they both give his predicament, and the fact that each of them lays a hand on one of his forearms, warm and weighty.

 

"Tendo knows the area." He sighs at last. "I should ask him about all of this. We're meeting up tonight, but he's spending a lot of time with this couple... so outside of our plans to do a video together, I don't know how much I'll see of him."

 

Aleksis nods.

 

"It will all come together." Sasha reassures him.

 

"Fingers crossed." Aleksis adds, with a little wry chuckle. He doesn't believe in luck any more than Hermann does, but somehow it's still oddly comforting. After all, even if 'luck' isn't a thing, and no little rituals can bring it, there is still chance. And there are still things which are outside of Hermann's control, even if they are not chance. Like the decisions of those who are interested in hiring him.

 

\---/-/---

 

Newt isn't actually familiar with the presenter of the 'Sell Yourself' panel. Some guy who hosts an online variety show or something like that, but according to the little blurb, he was actually making a living off his online presence.

 

When Newt gets there and the panel starts, he decides that the blurb was a load of crap. Although 'internet TV show host' is probably the most legit and legal thing the guy can put on his resume. At best, he looks like he would sell you drugs in a dark alley. Not your usual street drugs, either, something like opium. He looks like he'd whisk you away to an opium den or something, and then once you were all strung out on opium, you wouldn't care about the endless parade of girls with ukuleles that he'd bring in to be quirky. Or the wannabe comedians, popular Let's Players, whatever.

 

He wonders what step 'Steampunk Crimelord Persona' is on the path to building a foundation for internet fame, but he keeps that thought to himself. He'd walk out, but he doesn't want that much attention on himself, and it doesn't cost him anything to stay.

 

His mind keeps returning to Hermann, who'd fumed beside him throughout the first panel of the day.

 

He was cute when he fumed.

 

Which Newt is not going to dwell on, he promises himself, but he can't _lie_ , Hermann is an attractive guy. If they hadn't fought...

 

No. He shuts that line of thought down. He'd still be able to enjoy listening to Hermann's voice, yes, but could they have become friends? Sooner or later, their conflicting opinions on _Monsters' Citadel_ would have come up, and it would have been more crushing if Hermann had said all that stuff with no regard for Newt's feelings than if he'd said it just because he thought no one would hear. Better to find out early on that the guy is a jerk about things he doesn't like... After all, if they disagreed on that, there would probably be lots more.

 

Nothing else Newt could think of based on the videos, of course. He often agreed with the things Hermann said in those, and he never disagreed to the point where he felt he couldn't like or respect the other man... but he was sure there would be other things. Best to nip whatever he felt for Hermann in the bud.


	7. Chapter Six: Friday Night, and the Worst Game in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann and Tendo hang out, start work on their collaboration, and talk future plans. Tendo feels like the man who knew too much.

"So what else did you do today?" Tendo asks over his shoulder, as he sets up the console, glad he'd packed the right one, considering he hadn't given Newt any restrictions when he'd turned him loose on the game store.

 

Hermann has already gone over all the panels he went to-- he can't fault Tendo for asking what else he'd done, he'd only made a couple. He'd needed to take a break in his room to stretch out his back without feeling like people were staring, and once he'd gotten there, it had been so easy to take the weight off his feet, to spend just a half hour, an hour, and hour and a half in the gentle reprieve his bed offered. He doesn't always have to miss big chunks out of conventions, it always depends, but this time, he'd needed to take care of himself.

 

Instead of saying 'nothing, he talks about lunch with the Kaidanovskys, and Tendo couldn't be a more attentive audience-- well, he interrupts, but Hermann thinks that's fair, too. It's not an interruption born of inattention.

 

"You're thinking about moving out here and I'm not the first person you told?"

 

"I didn't want to get your hopes up. I still can't be certain... And anyway, it's not your city."

 

"Still the Bay Area, brother. You'd be close."

 

"It feels farther, when you don't drive." Hermann shrugs. Tendo moves to sling an arm around him.

 

"Well, I drive. I hope you get the job... it'd be good to be able to do this more often. You interviewing?"

 

He lets Hermann go, moving to get the rest of the equipment set up. He'll be on the foot of the bed, but he's pulled a chair up next to it for Hermann, and they should both have an okay view of the screen.

 

"At least for the coding offer here... There's one in Palo Alto as well. It's honestly more attractive, but it's an expensive city, and Menlo Park's not much better..." He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, pinching. "Menlo Park is where the accelerator lab is, which is what I really want, but first I need to have something to keep me afloat in the area, and these coding offers... they're a surprise, I always thought it was something I would do as a hobby, but apparently I've impressed the right people. I could look for an apartment in Stanford, that has to be more affordab-- Tendo?"

 

Tendo blinks, trying to school his features into the appropriate smile and not the mask of fascinated horror that had started to spread across them when Hermann had first mentioned Palo Alto, and only intensified at the accelerator lab. 

 

Stanford's accelerator lab. 

 

Newt's Stanford's accelerator lab.

 

At least Newt was firmly in the bio side of things, because if the two of them can't make up, the last thing he wants is for them to have the opportunity to be at each other's throats all the time. 

 

"Sorry. So since when have you wanted to work at Stanford?"

 

"It puts me in the relative vicinity of a friend. It takes me away from the sphere of my father's influence." Hermann rolls his eyes. "And it's a fantastic lab. I want that for myself. I want research opportunities that excite me, and a career that isn't dictated by my being Lars Gottlieb's son. And I want an environment with... with colleagues who excite me, also. Who feel the same way I do. Well, not the same way about my father, obviously, but... I want to be challenged, I want the discussions and the debates, I want to be on the edge of a beautiful new frontier. The labs at Stanford are there. Not just the accelerator lab-- Did I ever get the chance to tell you, I was reading this medical journal--"

 

"Hold up." Tendo breaks in, brow furrowing. "What are you doing reading medical journals? Last I checked, medicine was a pretty far cry from physics."

 

Hermann huffs a bit, shoulders coming up around his ears. "Oh, yes, heaven forbid I should try to broaden myself."

 

"Trips to Europe are broadening. Or-- away from Europe, in your case. Learning a language is broadening. Trying that new Vietnamese place is broadening. You don't broaden yourself reading medical journals, that's just crazy."

 

"All right, fine." Hermann snaps. "I am not broadening myself. I have a bloody degenerative condition, Tendo, sometimes I scan medical journals to see if there's any new applicable research."

 

For a moment they both sit there, each with an expression that slowly grows more apologetic with each passing nanosecond. 

 

"Sorry." Tendo says at last. "You know I didn't mean..."

 

"I know. You didn't mean anything. It's not my vocation. But there are things I have a vested interest in. I..." He sighs, shoulders falling. "I'm disabled, and I always will be, and it's not that I want to change that about myself. It doesn't define me-- not solely. But it's informed over half of my life, and I would be someone very different without it. I'm not looking for a miracle cure for me. It's not easy to envision one, there are too many things affected. I don't want to undo what I have, I just want... Maybe it can't be halted. That's fine. It's not the worst condition that there is. But if I'm honest? I don't want the surgery."

 

"What surgery? The article in this journal--?"

 

"The surgery." Hermann shrugs. "The one I've been looking forward to with some dread since I was fifteen. And every year I go in for a physical and the doctor tells me not yet. And they say, oh, there's no telling, but... I know what my odds are. Even if it isn't soon. I don't want back surgery. It's less invasive than the one they told me about when I was fifteen, but there's no such thing as non-invasive. There's an implant, there's a remote control for the implant... and when you get it, it doesn't undo the years of damage on nerve and muscle. I'll still be using a cane, I'll still be in pain, and my spine will still be trying to collapse in on itself. That's what's been in the back of my mind all this time. Until now... The surgery is still something I don't like dwelling on, and of course extensive physical therapy is a big part of any treatment that comes out of this study, but... All this time, I've thought... if I even go in for it, all it does is prolong the inevitable. It's a stop-gap measure at best. This new study on nerve and tissue repair, though... I don't know, it's... it's exciting. I don't want to erase who I've been, but when I get to the point that I need surgery anyway, isn't it more worth it, to be able to come out better than I went in, instead of just... holding steady?"

 

Tendo nods. 

 

Newt's research. It has to be Newt's research. He'd been working on generating new tissue before, he'd talked about it as much as he could, growing skin grafts and organ replacements, and they'd kept him on similar projects after the success his team had found, and this article coming out of Stanford on nerve and tissue repair had to be Newt's team..

 

"It's exciting, anyway." Hermann smiles, and Tendo has no idea what to make of that. "There are people worse off than I am, people who need this advancement in ways I don't. Yes, it would make spinal surgery worth going through if it came with a full reversal of all the damage my body's done itself, if I could... if I could have a body that wasn't in constant pain. But I'm really more excited to see what this could do for other people. I've been practicing using a cane since I was in secondary school... I've learned to cope with what I have. But people who are in accidents? If this could be a part of their recovery, if they didn't need to learn to adapt to a new disability? Severe cases, rapid degeneration, children... There are a lot of people who could use this. I wouldn't begrudge any of them the chance, whatever... complicated feelings I have about my own status."

 

"I think I know the thing you're talking about." Tendo says at last. "Same team that had the big tissue regeneration breakthrough a couple years ago, right?"

 

Hermann nods, beaming. "You read about it?"

 

"I heard about it."

 

"It's a bit like living in the future, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah." Tendo nods. That had been what Newt had said about it. "Okay, we're all set up, grab your headset and get ready for the worst game in the world. Or at least, the worst game to be had at the game store for two bucks."

 

Hermann has no idea what he's looking at, and his confusion doesn't let up as he starts to play through, with Tendo cackling gleefully next to him.

 

"I appear to be a teenage girl. What is the point of this? I'm just walking around, why am I not being given any kind of a tutorial?" He scowls. "Who do I need to find to get started here?"

 

"I don't know, brother, you're the one who has to slog through this one." Tendo laughs, watching Hermann's barely-animated teen wander through the halls of her high school, occasionally bumping into things, until she winds up back where she began.

 

This time, Hermann manages to find the student who was supposed to start his tutorial, glitched halfway into a locker.

 

"Dashed inconvenient." He grumbles, setting Tendo off all over again.

 

"Who-- 'dashed inconvenient'-- who says that?"

 

"I do. I did. Just now. And by the way, I think it's absurd that I, a freshman, am now expected to save an American high school's arts programs by successfully mounting a bake sale, a car wash, and a school play-- good heavens, are these all _rhythm_ games? Tendo, what are you trying to do to me?!"

 

Tendo howls with laughter, and Hermann grumbles his way through the buggy controls. It's a short game, and would have been shorter, had he not needed to re-do every challenge. Hermann is grumpier than usual, but his composure remains about as even.

 

Tendo thinks Newt would have appreciated that, if they hadn't had that fight. He half wants to bring it up again to try and make a little peace, but Hermann looks too relaxed, and Tendo isn't ready to ruin that.


	8. Chapter Seven: Saturday's Mounting Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shatterdome teams leave the convention center and set up their challenge livefeed. Newt and Hermann wind up rooting for the same team.

It's early morning, and Stacker and Herc are working out the carpool organization necessary to get everyone out to the scouted location with all their equipment, plus the stop to pick up materials for all the teams. It's a fairly tall order, but it's going to be one hell of a fun challenge-- for the teams and for the audience back at the hotel convention center.

 

The behind-the-scenes videos of the build phase will go up later, with each team free to edit together whatever they like from their own footage, it's the main event that's going to be shown live in one of the halls. Chuck's been enthusiastic about his idea for it, sketching out schematics for a pneumatic cannon-- filling a notepad and covering five napkins and one side of a paper bag as well.

 

They're all going to have to get moving pretty early, but Chuck's enthusiasm for the project means he's happy to be in charge of getting Scott moving, and Herc is glad for that-- Scott's more likely to indulge the boy, who's always looked up to him, than he is to listen to his brother.

 

Mako appears at Stacker's elbow with a quiet cough, and he sets down the list of who'll ride with whom, smiling over at her.

 

"Miss Mori, can we help you?" He asks, with the same warmth and faux-formality he used to put on for tea parties and for dancing her across the living room on his feet.

 

"Yes. I was wondering... Since our team already has Luna and Tamsin both... and there are three Weis, and three Hansens... Raleigh Becket has invited me to join his team for this challenge, to even the numbers out."

 

"Oh?" He raises one eyebrow. "And why the Beckets and not the Kaidanovskys? There are two of them, also."

 

"Please, two Kaidanovskys counts for three of anyone else." Herc laughs, reaching across the table to punch Stacker's shoulder lightly. "C'mon, let the girl go, then. She doesn't get to spend so much time with all her friends on the other teams. Would make things more even."

 

Stacker nods, and Mako grins brightly, before hurrying off to get ready.

 

"And relax." Herc adds, after she's gone. "I've seen her with the Becket boys, and neither one of 'em's got designs on her you wouldn't approve of. She and Raleigh are close, sure, but no more'n you and I are."

 

He gives Herc a look. "You realize you are a terrible example of a good example."

 

"Didn't say they were just like us. Just that they're not any closer. They're better kids than we were at their ages. Besides, I haven't been a terrible example in yonks. I'm a responsible parent now."

 

"Mm." Stacker shakes his head, smiling. Chuck would probably do just fine on his own if Herc wanted to get away for the kind of wild night that had marked the early days of their friendship... but he didn't think Herc would want to. He'd probably feel guilty about going on a bender while planning an intervention for his brother's drinking, and Stacker can hear the man begging off the night out in his head before he can even suggest it.

 

The Beckets are both good kids, Herc's had a point there-- Raleigh had been reckless once, but he'd grown up, and Mako had grown up knowing all of the teams, and he'll always have another opportunity to build something with her, when everyone has gone back home... there really isn't any harm letting her pick her friends over her home team for one challenge. And if she bonds with the boy over this, to the point where some day, she looks back on times when they build things, broke things... to the point where she can have a conversation in her head and know the responses she comes up with are the ones he would have given, then that's the kind of friendship he wants for her.

 

\---/-/---

 

Hermann manages to avoid seeing or thinking about Newt all morning, as he and Tendo attend a long panel featuring Let's Play video makers more famous than  themselves. It's fun-- they laugh, they pick up tips, all in all he enjoys himself immensely and his mind stays off of his own troubles throughout.

 

His lucky streak ends when he's stuck muscling his way through the crowd to the hotel's cafe for lunch-- alone, with Tendo off enjoying some time with the couple he's seeing. He'd mentioned Alison wanting to just order room service, and Hermann somehow doubts they're spending the whole of their lunch break worrying about food, but he doesn't really want to dwell on Tendo's love life. As long as his friend is happy, so is he, but he doesn't need details.

 

He gets jostled in line, and he catches himself, but he loses the journal he'd brought with him and it skids across the tile towards the head of the line.

 

Between the shuffling feet of everyone ahead of him, Hermann sees a hand rescue it, and then he hears a familiar voice. A high, rough, loud voice that he'd been hoping to go the rest of his day without.

 

"Oh, hey! Hey!" Newt, who had been up at the head of the line, darts out of it, losing his place to the crush of hungry convention-goers eager to get their coffee and their food and get back to things. Hermann wishes he could just avoid the other man's gaze, but he really is eager to finish reading about the new advances coming out of Stanford's labs.

 

Newt has a grin on his face, bright and... Well, not attractive, Hermann tells himself, because Tendo's friend is the most horrible, annoying man he's ever met. Just very bright. Too happy for someone who's lost his spot in line for coffee just to return something to a stranger.

 

That grin wavers and disappears, when he meets Hermann's eyes, and Hermann tries to tell himself he's glad it does, but he feels just a little bit guilty. He blames Tendo for that, for trying to convince him to apologize earlier. For trying to make Newt into someone with feelings who Hermann would have to be considerate of, rather than an asshole he had no connection to.

 

"Oh. Hey." He says, voice flat. "Tendo's friend."

 

"Yes." Hermann nods. "And you... I mean, he mentioned, that you were..."

 

Newt nods back, and turns away to scan the line, and Hermann clears his throat, feeling the urge to shrink in on himself when Newt turns back to look at him.

 

"You have my journal." He explains weakly, gesturing.

 

"Your--?" Newt blinks. "Are you a doctor?"

 

"No. Well, yes. Of physics. Maths. I just..." He shifts uncomfortably. "I don't see how it matters to you,"

 

"I'm published in this." Newt sticks his chin out, handing it back-- almost daring Hermann to take it, now that he knows.

 

It seems impossible. This is the man who he'd met in the game shop wearing a ratty Godzilla tee shirt, buying little near field communications figures for a children's game.

 

"You're published in this?"

 

Newt's chin just juts out further, face screwing up in a determined look, and Hermann has no idea what to think anymore.

 

"Newton Geiszler, biologist." He says at last.

 

Hermann takes the journal back, his hand trembling. So this is Dr. N. Geiszler, not just published in the journal, but in the very study Hermann has been following. Not just... not just involved in the study, but spearheading it. Another publication had described him as a wunderkind, Hermann isn't surprised he's young, even knowing that before this study, there'd been successful work done with tissue regeneration, something that must have taken years... He's just surprised that he's so...

 

Immature.

 

And he's going to kill Tendo for not telling him.

 

"Thank you." He manages, tucking his journal under his arm and moving with the line. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Newt slump. Realizing, no doubt, that he's lost his spot at the front of a long line. "Ah-- Dr. Geiszler, it seems the least I can do is to ask you to... join me."

 

He has to grind the words out, but Newt seems grateful not to be forced to the end of the line, and they don't need to spend their entire lunch together.

 

"Thanks. I mean, you're welcome. And thanks. So why are you reading the biomedical stuff?"

 

"It interests me. I am allowed to be interested in fields which are not my own."

 

"Right. Right. So, are you, uh...?"

 

"Yes." He admits. "I... have been following your work, actually."

 

"I've been following yours." Newt smiles, then frowns, then looks vaguely pained. "Uh, your-- Not your physics work, your Let's Play work. Sorry. I mean, I don't know what kind of physics you do."

 

"I'd been dreaming of getting into the accelerator lab out of Stanford." Hermann snorts. "I didn't know that would make us colleagues."

 

"Oh, yeah. Gonna have to change all your career plans now."

  
"You are hardly worth abandoning my dreams of the Accelerator lab over."

 

"Guess I should apologize." Newt says, and from his tone, it sounds like pulling teeth to get him to say it. "I... would not have intimated that you're an old man with no sense of fun, if I recognized you as the guy whose videos I enjoy."

 

"You shouldn't have said it regardless of whether or not I made any sort of videos at all." Hermann huffs.

 

Newt just laughs.

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing. It's just... That sounds a lot like what I said to you, about insulting me under your breath there in German."

 

"Hardly. And I wasn't insulting you!"

 

"An insult to _Monsters' Citadel_ is an insult to me, dude."

 

"I am not your 'dude'." Hermann scowls.

 

"Whatever. Too much to hope you might not have a stick up your ass today, huh?"

 

"Yes." Hermann snaps. "It was."

 

"... So you admit you have a major stick up your ass?"

 

"I do. I am perfectly happy to admit it. I don't care to sugarcoat things and I don't suffer fools lightly--"

 

"Uh, excuse me, you are holding my work in nerve repair in your hands, I think that's pretty good proof who's not a fool." Newt gestures expansively, as they reach the head of the line, nearly smacking a woman in the back as she heads over to the 'pick up' end of the counter.

 

"Intelligence and foolishness have nothing to do with each other, you can be both. And some days, Dr. Geiszler, that stick is what keeps me standing. So thank you, I will not be ashamed of it. Now." He glares at Newt, huffing, before slamming his hand down on the cool of the countertop. "What will you have?"

 

"... What?"

 

"I owe you one lunch, now what will you have?"

 

"Uhh-- egg sandwich and a soda?" He glances between Hermann and the barista, confused.

 

"Very good. One egg sandwich, one bagel with cream cheese, one blueberry yogurt parfait, a soft drink, and a double espresso, one extra pump of simple syrup and just a splash of two percent milk, thank you." Hermann orders.

 

Their things are put on a single tray, and Newt carries it to a table for two, setting it down and taking his empty cup.

 

"Be right back for that sandwich." He says, with a jerky nod, and Hermann sits down to start on his own light lunch while Newt runs to the soda fountain.

 

He's surprised when Newt slides into the other seat, but Newt merely shrugs, sheepish.

 

"Dr. Geiszler?"

 

"No other tables. I'll be out of your hair, you go ahead and read about my brilliant advances in biomedical science, I won't bother you."

 

"A bit late for that." Hermann snorts.

 

Newt smiles, shrugging again. "Okay. So sue me. You planning on watching the big Shatterdome challenge livestream?"

 

"I was, yes. Are... are you in the VIP seats this time?"

 

Newt shakes his head. "Nope. You won't have to put up with me."

 

"Then we should both enjoy ourselves. Who are you pulling for?"

 

"Who am I pulling for?" Newt repeats, tone incredulous. "If you mean who am I rooting for--"

 

Hermann rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes--"

 

"The Kaidanovskys."

 

"Oh." He blinks.

 

"What? Who are you 'pulling' for?"

 

"The same. They're friends."

 

"Oh." Newt looks down at his sandwich. "Cool, I guess. I like their music."

 

"I didn't think anyone liked their music."

 

"Well, it's Hungarian Hard House--"

 

"I know what it is."

 

"Forget it." Newt takes a bite.

 

"No, no, I'm sure they'd be glad to have someone appreciate it."

 

"... Truce?"

 

"Beg pardon?"

 

"Look, we were both kind of assholes the other day, so... Can we just agree to not be, now? Because it sounds like we actually kind of... admire each other. And maybe Tendo was right and if we'd met another way we'd like each other, too. But can we at least not actively hate each other, because it's really been bringing me down."

 

Hermann nods. "Truce, then. Since we both want the same team to win, it seems fair."

 

The smile Newt flashes him is small and wary, and Hermann wants to give that smile the benefit of the doubt. 


	9. Chapter Eight: Let the Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Hermann watch the main event.

"Yo, Newt!"

 

Newt stops to let Tendo catch up to him, smiling. "Are we sitting together?"

 

It feels like a lot to hope for, with all the directions Tendo's been pulled in socially over the weekend, but then, how many reasons could Tendo have for jogging to catch up to him on the way in for the Shatterdome livefeed broadcast? Judging by the way Tendo's expression falls-- and his shoulders with it-- Newt guesses there is a different reason after all.

 

"Sorry, brother. That wasn't actually my plan. I mean, I could find someone else to give my VIP seating pass to if you want to join the three of us in the cheap seats..." He waves the pass, and as apologies go, it works.

 

"You were gonna give me your VIP seating?"

 

"Yeah. Well, Jake and Alison didn't have passes, and..." Tendo shrugs.

 

"Things are going well this time around?"

 

"Yeah." Tendo's grin returns full-force. "He's a really good guy... I'm glad I got another chance with him. I mean, maybe we could have worked something out with Alison seeing both of us separately, but... I think it's just cozier with three. Nothing against a twosome, but when I go after a couple, I like to go home with both of them."

 

"You're greedy and you like to be at the center of maximum cuddling." Newt teases. "Yeah, okay, you sit with your date-type people, I will absolutely take that VIP seating off your hands. I like not having to fight for a good seat... Way better chance of getting the aisle this way."

 

"And I'll crash at your place on the way home to give us some extra hang-out time, just you and me. After the convention, yeah? I'm all yours. Gaming or movie marathon or whatever. That's a promise."

 

This time, Newt actually does feel better. Before, he'd been in too deep a funk, but now he can just look forward to getting to be the only demand on Tendo's time, once everyone else has packed up and shipped out.

 

He's heading in with the VIP pass when he remembers that Hermann had asked him about it when they'd sort of been forced into sharing a table for lunch and he'd said no... He recognizes Hermann up at the front. On the aisle seat, of course... Newt's preferred aisle seat, in fact. But even if he can't be right on the wall-side aisle, he can be close... and now that they've sort of apologized, next to Hermann is better than being squashed in between total strangers.

 

"Hey." He greets, sheepish, dropping down into the seat next to Hermann's. This time the chair is open, Hermann's cane leaning against the wall. For the best, too, since Newt doubts there will be any empty seats left.

 

"Dr. Geiszler--"

 

"Just call me Newt. Please. Everyone calls me Newt."

 

"You said you wouldn't be in the VIP seating area." Hermann continues, undaunted, his expression pinched.

 

"I didn't think I'd get lucky. Tendo gave me his pass--"

 

"Of course he did." Hermann rolls his eyes.

 

"He wanted to sit with the, um..."

 

"His dates?" He nods. "That makes a little more sense than his orchestrating this particular seating arrangement. You might have picked any seat."

 

"Well, I like the aisle by the wall, but I guess-- What, you think he'd try to?"

 

"He seemed to think I should apologize to you for our... misunderstanding."

 

Newt laughs. "Yeah, he seemed to think I needed to apologize to you, too."

 

Hermann smiles. It's barely there, but Newt is sure he catches it just the same. "Well. I need to take the aisle by the wall myself..."

 

Hermann gestures to his cane, and Newt nods.

 

"I am sorry, I guess."

 

"As am I." Hermann nods, and they both settle in to face the stage, and the projector screen.

 

The same internet variety host as Newt had seen running a panel before is the one to ascend to the podium with the mic, and Newt groans.

 

"Ugh, not this guy... You're gonna hate this guy." He warns Hermann in a whisper.

 

There's nothing particularly detestable in his intro, though, and the real meat of the thing is what's going to be on screen-- the host is barely involved.

 

Stacker Pentecost is the first on screen, the camera person zooming in on him first before briefly panning over to the catapult that Luna and Tamsin are flanking.

 

"Meet Coyote Tango." He grinned right into the camera, and judging by the sigh to Newt's left, right into Hermann's heart.

 

Which should not make him jealous, but now that he was freed from having to hate the guy, his old SpaceChampion crush was kind of back.

 

Pentecost went over the vital stats on the catapult, before the camera moved on, panning across the row of machines. The Kaidanovskys are standing proud at theirs, as are two out of three of the Hansens, Scott lounging nearby. The Weis are a ball of motion, even with the building finished, and there at the end, Mako is with the Becket brothers, laughing as Yancy says something that he thinks is funny, provoking a good-natured 'attack' from his brother. Laughter all around, a moment of wrestling followed by slaps on the back...

 

When the camera person gets to the Kaidanovskys, Sasha introduces Cherno Alpha, an impressive trebuchet with a somewhat 'soviet chic' paintjob. It's Chuck Hansen who gets to give the run-down for Striker Eureka, a pneumatic cannon he couldn't be prouder of. The Weis show off the centrifugal they've built, named Crimson Typhoon, and then it's the Becket Brothers-plus-one, and their enormous slingshot.

 

The brothers describe their machine, and then Mako goes over the rules of the contest for the audience's benefit, and Newt turns to grin over at Hermann at the promise of seeing giant gourds being hurled through the skies.

 

They've got impartial parties with measuring equipment and golf carts and it may not be robot wars, but Newt is still excited.

 

Coyote Tango's pumpkin sails an impressive two thousand and five hundred feet, and Newt thinks about asking Hermann for the mathematical proof that a trebuchet is better than a mere catapult. They are both cheering for the same team to win, after all...

 

They wind up groaning and clinging to each other's arms when Cherno Alpha falls a couple dozen feet short of Coyote Tango's mark, and Newt doesn't pull away too quickly, either. Chuck excitedly explains for Camera One the obvious superiority of the pneumatic cannon, citing the big pumpkin chucking competitions and the Guinness record holder, but Striker Eureka's pumpkin explodes coming out of the barrel, disqualifying them-- something Herc can only laugh about, even if his son isn't taking the loss well.

 

"Well, Stacker, guess you win this one." He says into the camera, while Chuck wanders through the background of the shot kicking at small rocks.

 

Herc's proven wrong in short order when the Wei Tang Clan and Crimson Typhoon get to three thousand feet with their pumpkin, and Newt hears Tendo's victorious shout from five rows back, even out of all the other cheering and groaning.

 

With their team out of the running, Hermann is relaxed next to Newt, seemingly without a care as to who would win, but Newt still feels the thrum of excitement, still leans forward in his seat waiting for the final shot.

 

"Come on, Danger." Raleigh pats the side of the slingshot, before all three team members wind it back, and half the room cheers even before there's a measurement, just because watching a huge pumpkin sail through the air is fun, while the other half holds their collective breath.

 

It lands at two thousand and eight hundred feet, and Tendo whoops and hollers again at the Wei Tang Clan's victory.

 

Newt slumps back into his seat with a grin. On-screen, all the teams converge, to congratulate the winners and to talk a bit more about their rigs and the contest and future plans for the channel and their challenges, but Newt lets it wash over him, turning to look at Hermann  instead.

 

"Are you going to the after party?" He asks, when the crowd applauds, the sound of them hiding his question from anyone else's ears.

 

"I wasn't sure if I was going to, but I am on the list for the Kaidanovsky's party. Why-- Are you?"

 

"I wasn't planning on anything, but... well, you know Tendo. He said he could get me in if I wanted to. Would it be, um... bad, if we both showed up?"

 

Hermann shakes his head. "I don't think so. After all, we've apologized."

 

Newt grins. "Well maybe I'll see you there, then."


	10. Chapter Nine: Afterparty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kaidanovsky's party is THE event to get into, and get into it everyone does. 
> 
> Quick vignettes of different characters enjoying the big bash, or slipping away to enjoy something else, as the case may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (99% less sexy than I just made slipping away sound)

The Kaidanovsky's have a suite-- the best in the hotel, if Newt had to guess. It certainly seems to hold plenty of people. He's not always a 'party' person, but he's excited to get to geek out with some of the people who'll be at this party, and he likes the music. He has no idea how they got this suite. Sure, they're in the top tier of presenters, but it's a big, even tier... he can't imagine they're just better off financially than every other person, group, or couple on their level. However they managed it, the place looks way more luxurious than the rest of the hotel, and the Kaidanovskys themselves provide a glittering centerpiece to the party.

 

He and Tendo arrive to find things already in fairly full swing, and it's Yancy Becket who'd let them in and who offers them drinks. Newt opts for caffeine over alcohol, but Tendo takes a beer, grinning easily at the other man.

 

Another mystery, how at ease Tendo is with everybody, how someone whose physicality screams 'jock' doesn't seem to set him on edge at all. Sure, Yancy is perfectly nice, but Newt still can't help the little part of him that cringes just because he's completely surrounded by big, strong people. Big, strong, tall, good-looking, popular people... Tendo doesn't have that reaction at all.

 

"Hope you're saving a dance for me." Tendo just winks at Yancy as he clinks their beers together.

 

"Heard your dance card got a lot fuller this weekend." Yancy laughs. "Jake and Alison coming?"

 

"Nah, competing party for gamers. I've got to leave early to hit it up-- I mean, that is what I do. Plus, you know..."

 

"Yeah. You have to show off your new arm candy."

 

"I might be the arm candy." Tendo preens.

 

Yancy rolls his eyes and gives Tendo's shoulder a light punch. "Just don't leave too early and you might get me to dance... Might! I don't know what to do with this noise."

 

"Well, it's dance music." Newt pipes up, defensive. He shrinks in on himself when Yancy looks at him-- actually looks at him-- for the first time. But he gets a smile, and a shrug, and Yancy just slaps them both on the back before he moves on to talk to someone else.

 

Newt makes a visual sweep of the room and tells himself he's not looking for Hermann, but he knows he's lying to himself. It makes the point of doing so pretty moot.

 

The Weis are holding court in one corner, with a select few fans-- or friends of someone, maybe. The Kaidanovsky's are in the center of the room, with Luna and Tamsin-- Aleksis really just standing by as the three women speak rapidly and enthusiastically about something. There are people Newt doesn't know circulating through the room, but not many-- most of them gravitate towards the Weis, as does Yancy after a time. There are people in the bedroom as well, though Newt mostly just sees shadows of movement there. Raleigh Becket is out on the balcony with Mako, their heads bent together. Every so often one of them will point to something down by the pool or out along the cityscape beyond, and say something-- Newt assumes, at least-- and one or both will laugh softly.

 

He peeks into the bedroom, hoping against hope that Hermann will be chilling in the more quiet area with a few equally chill partygoers, but it's just Herc and Chuck Hansen and Stacker Pentecost, speaking in low voices, and Newt returns to sit on an ottoman up against the wall, where he can enjoy the music and wait to see if Hermann will show up.

 

\---/-/---

 

Raleigh had ditched the party almost as soon as he'd arrived, moving through the sliding glass door of the suite's living room and out onto the balcony, leaving Yancy to do more of the socializing. It wasn't that he was more introverted than his brother-- he doesn't think he is, at least not most of the time. He'd just felt a tug towards the quieter environment, and the view.

 

Still, he hadn't been sorry when he wasn't the only one. Mako was on the bedroom side of the balcony, but it was all one thing, and they gravitated to each other easily, to enjoy the view and talk about nothing in particular.

 

"Not into the party scene?" He asks at last.

 

"I do not party very often." She laughs. "Too busy with school. Or with... all this."

 

"Yeah. All this." He nods, his shoulder bumping hers. "Your family must be proud, with the school thing."

 

He doesn't know himself if he means her birth family watching over her from the great beyond, or her adoptive family, but he thinks both are probably true, and she seems pleased either way.

 

"I like to think so. But if you and Yancy ever get to come and visit, it has to be when I can come home. We can go three on three again."

 

"Yeah, without the Weis there to beat us both anyway." Raleigh snorts. "I had no idea a slingshot would be that efficient... but the whole thing was a lot of fun. I'd like to get to build together again for some kind of challenge. Or just for fun. If you wind up starting your own engineering company after university, you think you'd have room on the payroll for a bum like me?"

 

"I hardly think you are a 'bum', Mister Becket." She shoves at his arm, and they share another soft laugh. "I don't think that is what is going to happen, but if I do, I would hire you in a heartbeat. And Yancy. And the Weis, if they wanted. Everyone. And then we would fail as a company because we would get nothing done but silly videos of robot fighting."

 

"Just gotta figure out a way to make robot fighting into a viable business plan, that's all." He shrugs. "It's due for a resurgence."

 

"I would hire you." She smiles softly, her gaze returning to the pool below, the bright blue of it lit up even in the dark of the night.

 

\---/-/---

 

The chat inside the bedroom is less fun. Scott had insisted upon a totally unnecessary trip to the liquor store so that they could 'make it a real party', and it's not as though the Kaidanovsky's don't have ample supplies.

 

Chuck knows he should care, when Pentecost and the old man start whispering to each other, with worried, serious looks. He's not stupid, he knows what they're talking about, even if they aren't including him. Maybe he should be mad about that, his father leaving him out of a family problem and talking to Pentecost instead, except Pentecost might as well be his uncle, too, with how close he is to the old man, and he always seems like he's got his head on right.

 

Besides, Chuck doesn't know what he'd say if they did ask his opinion. He'd liked being able to tell himself there wasn't a problem, but he doesn't buy it anymore, and he knows they need to do something. He just doesn't know if he wants to. He loves Uncle Scotty-- and if Stacker Pentecost is like a faraway uncle, Uncle Scotty's like a second father. Like when the accident killed his mum, the old man lost everything that made him a dad along with her, but Scotty stepped up. Scotty's always been fun, and never been shy about affection, about talking to Chuck about his day and his worries and always treating them like grown-up concerns, and always easy with praise the way the old man wasn't.

 

Maybe that meant his father's praise meant more, but it was still so nice to have someone who remembered how to show he was engaged, how to really parent. And Scott never drove or anything when he did drink, he'd never hurt anyone. And he was happy that way, he had fun...

 

Maybe he was hurting himself. And Chuck knew he really should care about that.

 

When the old man finally calls Chuck over for 'something important', Chuck's overheard everything, but there's a hand clasping his shoulder tight, and from the rigid set of his father's shoulders and the defeated frown, Chuck thinks it wasn't easy for him to get to this point. And he thinks he's old enough he ought to try to take some of that invisible weight off of his dad's back. Somehow he'd never realized just how much was there.

 

\---/-/---

 

A stranger lets Hermann into the party. Sasha and Aleksis are on the suite's living room sofa with Luna and Tamsin, and most of the partygoers seemed to be at least attempting to dance a little ways off. He spots Tendo with them, trying to teach Yancy Becket a set of moves that didn't seem to match up with the hard beat of the music. Definitely Tendo's moves, though...

 

Hermann definitely doesn't feel up to interrupting any kind of a group thing, be it dance or discussion-- he doesn't know Luna or Tamsin, or really any of Tendo's other friends.

 

He knows Newton a little bit, though, and Newton is alone.

 

Hermann approaches him, with a little cough. "Do you mind if I join you?"

 

"Please!" Newt scoots, practically off of the end of the two-person ottoman, recovering without much grace. "Can I get you a drink? I saw where everything is, I don't mind."

 

"That's quite all right. I can't really drink tonight. Any night." He sits gingerly, gesturing to his leg. "The pills I take for this."

 

"That's cool. Me, too. I mean-- for this." He taps his forehead.

 

"So what brought you to the convention? Was it the pumpkin throw?"

 

"Chuck. Or 'punkin chunkin', if you will--"

 

"I will not."

 

Newt laughs. "I make videos. Toy reviews."

 

That explains so much. Hermann just nods. "That's nice."

 

"I went to a terrible panel on marketing yourself. But I dug the punkin chunk. I thought for sure the trebuchet was gonna take the catapult, though! It just seems like... like it should be science somehow."

 

"Looking at official pumpkins-for-distance statistics, that's backwards." Hermann supplies. "It's actually the catapults that make better distance. Well, the pneumatic cannons are the best of all, but it would have been impossible to build one in that time frame and expect nothing would go wrong. There just wasn't time. What I hadn't taken into account were the variables for slingshot-style machines... that was what got me."

"Yeah." Newt laughs. "Tendo's gonna be impossible now that his team beat us all like that."

 

"Then we'll just have to muddle through the insufferable phase somehow." Hermann grins. "He can't get any worse over this than he did over that robotics tournament... he kept texting me these gloating messages and he hadn't even made it through to the finals yet..."

 

They start out trading Tendo stories, but Hermann realizes by the end of the night, they're talking about themselves.


	11. Chapter Ten: Sunday Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The convention comes to an end, but not without Newt getting a very important con first, and not without Hermann making a very important discovery.
> 
> Also not without thoughts on sibling bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, just some character things and a little bit of 'important' info, before the lengthier epilogue.

Hermann had had to leave the Kaidanovskys' party earlier than he'd have liked. He'd ducked out when Tendo had, but instead of joining him for the other party, the one with more of their fellow Let's Players, he'd just headed for his own room, to take his nighttime pills and wind down.

 

He'd wound down with Newt's video channel, and in the morning he's still thinking about it.

 

How often had Newton liked one of Hermann's own videos, or even commented, and how often had Hermann not even bothered to see what kind of content if any he produced? Newt was definitely one of his followers. In Newton's own words, he admired Hermann's work. In Tendo's words, Newt was his biggest fan.

 

It's not a channel Hermann ever would have found on his own, if Newton hadn't mentioned his handle at the party. If he's honest, it's the sort of thing he would have scoffed at-- it's all toys. Action figures, cars, Lego sets, electronic toys, miniatures, dolls, plush things, vinyl things, toys on keychains... toys for children, toys for adult collectors, it didn't seem to matter-- the only criterion was whether or not Newton liked something. When he liked something, he was boundlessly enthusiastic. He reviewed everything from how many joints a figure had and how well they did their job to how the plastic smelled.

 

Hermann thinks there should be something off-putting in that, but there isn't. Newton is simply a man who wants to share the most information he possibly can upon the matter at hand, and his reviews always take into consideration sensory processing and mobility issues. If a puzzle or a model or a transforming robot toy requires a lot from the wrists, or if a figures joints need serious muscling into place, he calls that out quickly, even if he loves the toy overall.

 

There are a fair few dinosaurs visible just in the background of most videos, but even those seem to be outnumbered by monsters and monster-themed toys. It isn't all giant creatures, though-- Hermann had watched one of the videos through three times just because he was sure the model spacecraft in the background was one he'd had himself as a child.

 

Newton's enthusiasm is adorable, and a little bit infectious. His thoughtfulness, though, in looking for any potential issues that any of his watchers might have, that's something Hermann can find a real respect for. Newton never labels anything too difficult, only presents the possible difficulty, be it from a tricky snap-together model or a vinyl animal figure with an odd, sweet smell.

 

Hermann hasn't cared about toys in a long time, his games aside, but he'd subscribed to Newton's videos halfway into the first one he'd started watching. He has yet to really plumb Newt's archives, but he's happy to have a distraction waiting for him if he needs to take a break.

 

\---/-/---

 

Channel Shatterdome's last panel is in the afternoon, giving everyone the time to sleep off the previous night's partying. It's a fairly simple Q&A, and one of the first fans to come up with a question asks about the fact that so many of the teams contain siblings, and whether or not it was difficult to not fight, or if it was a bonding experience.

 

Aleksis makes a show of leaning back in his chair to sit the question off, and Sasha shrugs, deferring the question down the long table to the rest of the teams.

 

"It's a bonding activity, of course." Stacker nods. "With Luna and also with Mako."

 

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Tamsin teases, before settling under the arm that Luna throws across her shoulders, leaning into the mic to give her own answer.

 

Herc can only let Scott answer for him, when the question passes onto them. He says they're too laid back to fight, but Herc wonders if that will be true when the convention is over and the intervention happens... he can't say as he looks forward to finding out, but at least Chuck hadn't tried to shut the conversation down. He's going to need all the help he can get if he's going to pull the whole mess off, and he's sure Chuck is vital to that. He echoes the sentiment on bonding, with a practiced smile, and wishes it didn't sound so hollow. He wouldn't give up the project for the world, and it's given him and Stacker the excuse to drop in on each other to mess around with tools and programming, it's made him friends from all around the world, but it hasn't fixed the gulf that sits there between him and his son, and it hasn't saved Scott from himself.

 

The Beckets are engaging-- straight off the bat they have stories about sharing a room as kids and being unable to stand each other some of the time, and it's too clear they'd have had each other's backs through it all.

 

Hu thinks he and his brothers are still in a unique position. He's heard people say they wished they had a twin, because 'you'd never be lonely', but he doesn't think that's right-- if you never want to be lonely, you need to be a triplet. Everyone needs time alone, after all, and space. With a twin, if your brother needs his space and you need a friend, you're out of luck. With triplets, you can work out a balance. Everyone gets to be alone, but no one has to be lonely.

 

He lets Cheung speak. They'd all been trading badges all weekend, and he wouldn't be surprised if no one but them knew it, but Cheung is the public speaker. Of the three, he has the easiest time spinning the words a crowd wants to hear. He talks about their shared passions, and about the fact that they had had to share a bedroom growing up, too, but they'd never fought. There's some teasing, between Cheung and Yancy, that the crowd loves, and Hu can see that room clearly in his mind's eye.

 

Their childhood home hadn't been roomy. When they were small enough, they'd all three shared a bed, and Cheung might have exaggerated, saying they never fought-- Hu remembers Jin stealing the covers, until he and Cheung had teamed up to decide that Jin would have to be in the middle where he couldn't drag all the blankets off to his own side. Cheung didn't start snoring until later, when they at least had the bunk beds and a little bit of personal space. If he's being totally fair, Hu has to admit that he was the one who always kicked in his sleep, so he was even less of a picnic. But somehow, none of the little wars they had about the bed and the blankets and who kicked who ever extended even as far as breakfast.

 

Now, they share an apartment, and there's enough room for all three of them-- and they've learned how to live together, even when it means juggling bringing back girlfriends without things becoming a mess. Hu still remembers the time Cheung didn't bother to tell them he was thinking of bringing someone back, nor had he bothered to tell the girl that he lived with his two nearly-identical brothers, and it had been Hu who'd been surprised by a strange woman kissing him while he made coffee. But that's a story for another time, or possibly for never, and when Cheung is done talking, Hu doesn't bother trying to add to it.

 

\---/-/---

 

This time, Hermann finds Newt on purpose, when lunch rolls around.

 

They talk, and it's awkward at first, Hermann haltingly, blushingly confessing to having enjoyed watching Newt's video the night before, Newt feeling completely euphoric at the news, as if they'd never fought.

 

They talk about the convention, they talk about scientific advancements in their respective fields, they talk about Hermann's plans to do as many job interviews as he can over Skype, his hopes of setting something up so that he can just move out to the area...

 

"Can I borrow your phone a moment?" Hermann asks, as their coffees dwindle on to nothingness, their lunch having stretched out longer than either of them had intended.

 

"Sure." Newt hands it over. He doesn't know if Hermann's checking his clock or what, but when it's passed back to him, there's a phone number staring him in the face, the contact information under the name 'SpaceChampion'.

 

"Thank you, that was-- I should get moving, but thank you, I had a lovely time." Hermann says everything too quickly as he pushes himself to his feet and makes a dash for it, but Newt doesn't care if it was awkward, he's finally managed to do the one thing Tendo does effortlessly at every con they go to. Newt's made a con friend.


	12. Epilogue: Come Play Your Video Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the not-too-distant future... a post-convention happy ending.

"All right, explain it to me." Hermann nods, shifting until he's more comfortable, finding the spot where Newt's sofa fits him just right.

 

Newt has set out a row of figures on the coffee table, giving Hermann lots of room to choose without overwhelming him with the full collection. He knows which are Newt's favorites-- he'd been the one to request Newt make a video ranking them, since they were toys too. The one with the grabby claw at the end of its long tail and the glowing blue mouth was Newt's number one favorite, followed by one that was something like an iguanodon-- that one had been packaged with the game, and was the character Newt had spent the most time on-- and then the golem with the big eyebrows...

 

Hermann wants the golem guarding his starting town, though. Newt had explained that all scanned figures who weren't in the party could be set in town to guard or work, and while Hermann isn't sure yet how that works or if it's just the in-game explanation for why your town isn't attacked while you're off exploring, he knows that's where the golem belongs.

 

He picks the haunted armor to start the game with, as his main fighter, turning it over in his hands. The quality is actually very good, and he likes the design. Even though the monster is supposed to be a ghost, something about the metal body with the glow that emanates from its visor when it sits on the portal reminds him of a little robot. A stylistically old-fashioned clock-or-steampunk robot, but a robot nonetheless. He gets a companion figure, a character that will follow his around to offer stat buffs or to heal or to recover extra treasure. Hermann picks his own favorite for that role, the little Pooka figure, a somewhat anthropomorphic black rabbit, head cocked to the side and winking, its open eye round and red, a little sprig of some kind of plant clutched in its paw-hands.

 

The Pooka is on the cuter side of Newt's figures-- Newt prefers the more monstrous, but he still has more of the cute critters than he does the sexy monster girls. The only one of those he has is the vampire queen who'd been one of the three figures packaged with the game, alongside the Pooka and the iguanodon creature. Newt also has a witch, but she's more monstrous than sexy. Hermann kind of likes her, her plant powers can be used offensively or to heal, but the haunted armor suits him best, with a sword for melee attacks and a crossbow to allow for ranged combat.

 

"Okay. So, first, you can scan all these guys at the start, but I am not letting you start the game with everyone, because that's way too easy. You can rotate out your fighters and the others are what's keeping the citadel safe from the human adventurers who come into your lands and kill your people." Newt explains, getting the game set up.

 

The vampire queen is, apparently, the ruler of the titular citadel. She's the one who rises from the ashes of a human attack in the opening animation. She falls back to the crumbling citadel with the iguanodon monster and the Pooka, and Hermann watches a brief montage as it's fortified against future attacks. All is not well, of course-- these human adventurers had managed a devastating attack on the monsters' territory, but even with that blow dealt, there are always more humans looking to test and improve their skills by hunting monsters, or who want them as trophies, or who just simply don't like them.

 

"You've been weakened by the attack, see?" Newt explains. "And the whole kingdom is basically falling apart here, and you have to fix it. But you're not ready to take on more strong humans, so what you need to do is start over. The citadel you have used to be an outpost and now you're going to make it the heart of your new kingdom. Since you're not deep into the monster lands, the humans you run into won't be very strong. So you start out in the Vernal Meadows, just outside the forest-- that's where a bunch of critters live. Those are monsters who aren't very strong or dangerous, they're basically the cute animal types who run wild there, but human hunters threaten them. They're not very anthro, so they don't have houses and junk, they're helpless and they have pelts and antlers and stuff that the humans find valuable. So you've got to patrol the meadows with your guys, fight off the humans, and eventually the meadow will be clear and you'll fence it in and you'll be able to appoint guards from your pool of monsters to keep the whole zone safe."

 

Hermann nods, placing each character on the portal as directed, before ending on the characters he plans to use, assigning the haunted armor to be his player character and the Pooka to be his backup.

 

The Pooka reminds him of Newt somehow... the attitude captured in the tilt of its head and its little wink, the crooked smile and mussy fur at the top of its head... It taunts their enemies in a high voice when Hermann stumbles upon his first group of humans. The controls are easy enough to get the hang of, the character designs are varied and interesting... Hermann has to admit, _Monsters' Citadel_ is _fun_.

 

Newt will probably gloat about this for eternity, but Hermann doesn't exactly care. He's enjoying himself, and he's enjoying listening to Newt's explanations-- and to Newt cheering him on.

 

"You know, since you _are_ making me play your game..."

 

" _Making_." Newt scoffs. "Like you're not totally into it. You love the relationship system!"

 

Hermann does. Whenever he swaps characters out, he does so with careful thought placed to which support character will accompany them. There aren't any real duo attacks, but there are increased saves when a compatible support character blocking enemy blows, and he's even gotten some bonus dialogues. It reminds him a bit of Fire Emblem in that sense, which he likes. He doesn't know if it will go as far as _Awakenings_ did in introducing romance-- he's not sure how a romance between a haunted suit of armor and a little black rabbit person would work, or a romance between an enormous, multiple-eyed, venom-spitting monster and a slightly-pretty zombie boy... or most of the pairs he's chosen to keep together.

 

"Since you are making me play your game." Hermann coughs, prim. "I'd like to introduce you to Starlight Saga. I think you'd like it. You explore space, and when you get out to another stellar system, you meet some groups of aliens. They give you quests, that sort of thing, it's... Well, it's a bit of an old-school dungeon crawler, except that it's science fiction. And the system for upgrading your equipment I really like. Also you can have a rover companion. I'm playing the second now, but for story purposes you really do need to start with the first."

 

"Can I marry an alien?"

 

"Not in the first game." Hermann admits, not sure why he feels he should apologize for the oversight.

 

Newt agrees anyway, and the next time he visits, Hermann brings his laptop, helping Newt get set up as an Engineer with a little rover trundling after him. Newt has to fight his way across the plains of Mars to get from the temporary Earthling colony to the warp pad that will take him out of the solar system, and to the planet of the aliens who'd made first contact.

 

"Geez, why spiders?!" Newt pulls an exaggerated face, and Hermann laughs. "I mean, I respect the Bowie reference, but I'd rather be fighting... Diamond dogs."

 

"Yes, but those aren't _of_ Mars." Hermann tuts, watching Newt blast his way through the giant spiders to get to the warp pad.

 

"They could be! They could totally be a Mars enemy instead of giant frickin' spiders."

 

Hermann just chuckles, as Newt warps his way to the next system, where his character is told about the corrupting black oil from space. Before Newt can quip that he's definitely seen that in a movie before, one of the corruption zombies appears, gold light shining from wide, empty eye sockets and black tar stretching in long, viscous strings across a gaping maw, big fists swinging wildly.

 

Newt is sold.

 

The third time that Hermann visits Newt at his apartment without Tendo there as well, it's not to play video games.

 

"I got the position." He says, when Newt opens the door.

 

"The lab?"

 

Hermann just grins. Newt whoops, throwing his arm around Hermann in a celebratory hug, leading him inside.

 

"We need to celebrate." Newt's arm is still around Hermann when they reach the sofa. "We're basically coworkers now!'

 

"Colleagues." Hermann quibbles. It's not as though they're in the same lab... but it is the same umbrella, with the university. He's sorry they can't work side by side sometimes, but they are in two rather different disciplines. And he's sure Newt would drive him crazy if they did, really, but they could have frequent lunches, now that Hermann is going to be at the accelerator lab-- it wouldn't be too far for Newt, with his moped.

 

"Colleagues, then." Newt rolls his eyes, his hand slips to the small of Hermann's back.

 

Hermann can't say what comes over him, only that it feels as though he's watching himself act, in horrifying, slow-motion clarity, as he turns and leans in, as his arm comes up around Newt and he presses their mouths together. It seems to go on forever before Newt responds, and Hermann's heart hammers in his throat, but then Newt's hands are on his waist and Newt's lips are moving against his own.

 

"... You kiss all your colleagues like that?" Newt jokes, but his voice trembles a little, and Hermann can only kiss him again, gently, on the cheek.

 

"No. Should I?"

 

"Definitely no. Save that for me. Uh-- You want to do that, right? This? More often? Like maybe date me?"

 

Hermann nods, and Newt relaxes into a wide grin. 

 

"Now we really need to celebrate. I mean... I feel like my boyfriend's new job is a pretty big deal."


End file.
